


Make Sure You Do Your Homework Before Blackmailing Someone, But Don't Forget Critical Thinking Too.

by InfiniteInMystery



Series: Some Things May Haunt Us But That's Why We Have Exorcisms [1]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Antagonist OC is a Real Piece of Work, Author doesn't know where this came from, Bad Communication, Bad Coping Mehcanisms, Blackmail, Canon-Typical Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, It's not going to be as depressing as it sounds, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pairings If You Squint, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Threats, as of right now, blood sweat and tears, is this a kidnapping au now, mentions of murderous thoughts, power stuggle, prepare to be frustrated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-09-30 04:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 113,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17216756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteInMystery/pseuds/InfiniteInMystery
Summary: Katsura's been compromised and, as much as he hates to admit it, it's because of Gintoki.





	1. Errors Can Happen Over Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Please Note the tags.
> 
> Updates will be slow, and I have no beta so I am editing as I go.
> 
> Also, I plan on having a happy end for this, so it shouldn't be too depressing. Enjoy.

It was absolute _madness_. This guy was completely insane.

“I would like to get straight to business.” Katsura said flatly. The little warm mug of green tea nestled between his hands was completely untouched because there was no God amongst rebels. Katsura knew what he himself would have put into the tea if their roles had been reversed, and that was all Katsura needed to know to be wary.

This Nakamura guy – dark-haired and charming, surprisingly cocky and clingy – had approached him maybe two, three, weeks ago. The young man had seemed friendly enough. Until he wanted to make a deal… of sorts. It wasn't really a deal, because Katsura wouldn't get anything out of it. Nakamura's straight-forward and completely bizarre request had left Katsura speechless the first time. But now, it just left him irritated and passive-aggressive.

Nakamura had straight up asked Katsura to hand over _his faction –_ as in, the entirety of it. All of it. Every single Joui rebel under Katsura's command _–_ and he had been pretty damn persistent about it. So persistent that here Katsura was, sitting at the crazy man's desk with a mug of tea in his hands, pretending like he was actually considering handing over his life's work and future just because the guy kept asking. Nakamura clearly didn't understand just how stubborn Katsura was. He clearly didn't understand that Katsura only liked to play games he could win, and flipped the table when he couldn't.

_The answer is, and will always be, No._

“Of course. Straight to business.” Nakamura said. He was seated at his lavish desk, fingers pyramiding together and an irritating smirk plastered onto that too-nice face of his. He was running some shady business out of the back of a decent looking barber shop, the office spacious and too formal, just like him, to _not_ be used for criminal activity. Katsura only wondered what game this guy was playing at.

“What do you want?” Katsura asked even though he knew the answer. But this was his standard question whenever he ran into this mysterious bespectacled man on the street – which was alarmingly often, sometimes more than once a day. Why were they going through this again? Did Nakamura feel safer in his office, because it was his territory? Was he showing off that he had a fancy hideout, hoping that Katsura would feel more inclined to just, you know, hand over his entire faction of Joui rebels like some collectable trinkets because he was impressed?

“Katsura. I am going to lead your Joui rebellion.” Nakamura said, still smiling like a charming man who hadn't lost his marbles. His teeth were bright white like some little rich kid. “I will lead the Joui. Lead in your place.”

Katsura didn't even hesitate. His eye contact didn't waver. This was _not_ a discussion. “No.”

“I am willing to make compensations for your cooperation and to keep your name involved. I am willing to let you remain a Joui. However, the faction will be mine to keep, control, and run as I see fit.” Nakamura said. “I will put money into the effort, money I am sure you do not have. Katsura. I'm not taking 'no' for an answer.”

“No.” Katsura said again. He would say it all day.

It wasn't like Nakamura could raise a hand to him. Katsura had men stationed outside in the event this crazy man tried something. Anything. Elizabeth hadn't been permitted in the room, though he was stationed at the door by Katsura's request. There was no one else in the room besides the two of them, which was the only reason Katsura had agreed. _What does he think he's going to get from me?_

“My answer is no. Is that all?”

“ _Katsura_.” Nakamura said. His head tilted slightly to the side, side bangs shifting with the movement. His eyes narrowed slightly like he was scolding a child. “I will not take 'no' for an answer. Of course, I will have my men merge into the faction to become Joui rebels so that our groups can become acquainted. I will 'work' under you for some time to gain the favor of your men, and then you will promote me. We can run the faction together until you are no longer needed, and then I will phase you out. Don't worry, Katsura. I plan to gradually take over. It would be ludicrous to assume I could suddenly take your place.”

_It's ludicrous for you to take my place at all!_

“Do you understand what you are saying?” Katsura asked. His voice had taken on a bland tone, lip twitching into a small smile. _You're talking like you already have me at_ _c_ _heckmate._

“I do.” Nakamura said. “I have a tendency to get what I want, Katsura, and I want the Joui. I want to restore the Joui back to their former, more terrifying glory, and you're going to let me. Our agreement has already begun. You'll find I am rather persuasive.”

“There has been no agreement.” Katsura said. He placed his untouched mug of tea onto Nakamura's desk, standing up. “I will be seeing myself out, thank you. The Joui are not for sale or trade and I suggest you brush up on your manners for the next time you meet with someone. Perhaps they will not be as kind as I am when you spout such nonsense. In business deals, you usually _ask_ the other party for things, not tell them.”

“Katsura.” Nakamura said. He did not stand with him, simply stared from behind those glinting lenses like some sort of evil Anime villain. He had his elbows on the desk, fingers touching.

Katsura lifted his chin, eyes staring out from under thick black lashes. _What the hell are you playing at? Huh?_

“You will do as I say.” Nakamura said. His voice had taken on a soft tone, but yet he sounded so damn _sure_. “I will give you three days to reconsider, and then on the fourth, I will take persuasive action. You have until three o'clock on Friday to agree to work with me on this. I hope you make the right decision.”

Katsura's jaw clenched. But he bowed spitefully when he excused himself anyway before he turned around to leave. His hands were tucked into the sleeves of his green yukata, suspicion clinging to him that this was the part where he got jumped. Where Nakamura's gang – or whatever he was running here – tried to force Katsura into cooperating.

If Nakamura's men drew a single sword on him, Katsura would have this whole shop obliterated in a moments notice.

 _Like H_ _ell_ _I'm going to work with you on this! You're not getting the Joui, you little smooth talking Sakamoto-wannabe!_ Keeping his wits about him, Katsura exited the room, very conscious of his sword at his hip.

Who the hell tried to take out the king on the first move of the game? What an idiot!

Elizabeth stood just outside of the door, staring across the hall at a woman, her hair dyed all the colors of the rainbow. She was one of Nakamura's small but capable guards, and five-hundred times more polite than Nakamura himself. She both bowed _and_ wished Katsura well as he exited.

The security in the building was suspiciously low, and if Nakamura's men weren't waiting to ambush Katsura outside, then Nakamura was just stupidly confident in himself.

It was absolute madness.

Katsura left the establishment down a long hallway, emerging into the dark alley via the back door completely undisturbed. With his hand on the door handle, Katsura took a deep breath as he stepped outside. Katsura almost flinched when a large, burly man stepped away to let him and Elizabeth pass. It was the same man that had let them in, the same man who had instructed him to enter the door at the far end of the hall.

_Something here isn't right._

To his utmost surprise, they didn't get jumped outside. The air was cool, the moon was bright, and the streets were notably empty. The burly bald guard wished Katsura and Elizabeth a good night, and they were on their way. Just like that. No funny business.

Nakamura had just let him go. _You have three days._

_Like anything will change my decision!_

They made it down the street past a lone vending machine without being stopped by anyone, the two terrorists disappearing into the night like any common man. There was no one tailing them, no suspicious activity going on besides their own skulking around. It was bizarre really. The whole day had been completely bizarre from start to finish. Katsura was over it. He just wanted to have a nap now, to go bother the Shinsengumi, and then maybe convince Gintoki into sparing him a free homemade meal.

Halfway back home, Elizabeth finally pulled out a sign. [What did he want?]

“He wants the world, Elizabeth.” Katsura said. He was being cryptic, but he didn't want Elizabeth to worry about it. It wasn't like Nakamura could just waltz in and take command of the Joui, right? He'd have to kill Katsura, and if he did that, the Joui would just kill him too. It was a lose-lose situation. And if Nakamura just waltzed in, shouting commands, Katsura doubted any of his men would follow him. No. It would take time and effort, bonding and proving before Nakamura could lead a faction already committed to a leader like Katsura, and Nakamura wouldn't succeed if Katsura invalidated him as worthy.

Right?

[You look stressed.] Elizabeth said. He was facing Katsura, sign almost pressed into the Joui leader's face. [Is there anything I can help you with? Do you need anything?]

“No, Elizabeth. Thank you.” Katsura said. He forced his thoughts silent, forced a small smile on his lips because eventually, that smile would become genuine. “We should just go home and rest for now. Put this behind us. He was a bad businessman, as Sakamoto would say. Doesn't know how to barter.”

[If you say so.]

Katsura kept quite the rest of the way back home, but his chin might have been held a little higher than usual, his stubborn defiance flaring a little more aggressively than expected. He was Katsura Kotarou, the most wanted man in all of Edo, and he was not going to be told by _anyone_ what he would and would not do.

_Three days to agree? Bah! Like hell!_

This Nakamura fellow was just going to find out the hard way.

 

–

 

It had been one of _those_ weeks.

Gintoki giggled as he stumbled down the street on a Friday night, hand outstretched to catch the wall as he staggered by. He was drunk – shocker – ambling his way down to the last place he liked to stop by on dark nights like these when his dreams kept him awake and his thoughts told him questionable things. It was the last place that would serve him past midnight when he was already so wasted.

His belly was warm as he pushed aside the Noren. A slurred greeting rolled pleasantly off his tongue as he slid onto the bench, lingering away from the other customers. He didn't want company after all.

The owner of the stand rolled his eyes as he gave Gintoki a once over, already aware of what the samurai wanted. The man said something, words that fell on deaf ears because Gintoki was having trouble paying attention. Gintoki found it amusing, watching how the old man's lips move but no words would register. _I'm not going to remember much tomorrow,_ _am I?_

“Sake!” Gintoki said, wide grin genuine. He felt content finally, his head tingling and his vision fuzzy. Where life had fucked him every other way, at least he had turned out to be a happy drunk. A _very_ happy drunk. His thoughts were fleeting and carefree as he was handed the cup and the single shot, yen being preemptively slapped onto the table to prove that he had enough.

“Thank you!” Gintoki said, picking the mug up carefully and taking a tentative sip like he was attempting to pace himself or something. He tried, really, not to drink it all in one go, but next thing Gintoki knew, the cup was empty.

He stared at the empty cup, eyelids heavy. His thoughts drifted over to a certain vice-chief smiling at him and then back to the red-head sleeping in his closet. He thought of the dog that seemed to hate him and the boy he was trying to help raise into a man. Thought of the old woman who lived downstairs, and the way she always seemed to read him like an open book. Gintoki sighed. He raised the cup to his lips, trying to drink the excess out from the bottom, but nothing was left for him there.

 _That's right._ _There's nothing left for me anywhere_ _._

God. He felt like he was suddenly standing on that hill again, his hands and heart numb from pure shock and his blade hanging bloody at his side. There was a body slumped before him, the fair head lying in a red puddle a few feet away. He thought he could hear screaming and sobs on the wind behind him, from friends who would never look at him the same. _I have nothing left,_ he had thought then. And now, too often, he would still think the same thing again. _I'm empty._

“Hey, hey. I think you shorted me.” Gintoki said, raising the cup for more, thoughts fleeting past the sore subject at ludicrous speed thanks to the alcohol. “Are you stealing my money over here or what?”

“You've had enough.” The vendor said, rolling his eyes. “Go home, Sakata. You're done for tonight.”

“Nah!” Gintoki said, slapping at the table with a forced laugh. “Why are you bein' so stingy, old man? Is it because I'm usually poor? I have the yen so pass it over!”

“I give you only one. Every time, Sakata. Yen or not. Now get out of here.”

“Eh, but Gin-chan-”

“Hey, is that Gintoki?” A voice asked, catching Gintoki's fleeting attention. A man suddenly strolled up to Gintoki's side, a warm hand dropping onto his shoulder. Gintoki glanced up, eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar face. The man looked no older than himself, dark eyes wide in concern behind a pair of glasses. He looked like a background character, but a nicer looking background character. Like he wasn't as attractive as, let's say, _Hijikata_ , but he wasn't half bad looking. Gintoki squinted at him. Was he actually a background character? Or has Gintoki run into him before?

“You know me?” Gintoki asked, head tilting to the side. “You that background character who bought me a drink the other night?”

“Yeah man, I'm Nakamura? I took you home a few days ago because you were plastered.” The man said, chuckling, eyes shifting from Gintoki to the vendor. “I guess it's a reoccurring situation?”

“No way.” Gintoki said sarcastically, turning back to the vendor. “Gin-chan only has a few and then he goes home, you know. And I've only had one!”

“ _Please._ ” The vendor said, gesturing vaguely with his hand, like Sakamoto when he was trying to bullshit a product and why it was 'worth' more than it actually was. “By all means, take him home now.”

Gintoki started to giggle again, watching the hand as it waved in the air. _I miss that_ _space_ _idiot._ If Gintoki hadn't been laughing so hard, he might have cried in longing instead.

“Yeah, of course.” Nakamura said. “Gintoki, let's go. You've had enough.”

In a blurry daze, Gintoki found himself on his feet with his arm slung over the stranger's shoulders. They were hobbling down the street at a slow pace, Gintoki's head spinning faster than Kagura's record time for eating a bowl of rice. Instantly, Gintoki burst into a fit of giggles at the thought, remembering how mad Shinpachi had been when he had walked in on Gintoki timing just how fast Kagura could shove food into her mouth. They had done about six rounds, the record coming out at seven-point-three seconds for a bowl of rice to be swallowed. Gintoki covered his face with his hand, blurry eyes squeezed shut as he started to laugh.

“Hey, what are you cackling about over there about?” Nakamura asked with an amused smile, straining to guide Gintoki onto the dark park they should have been bypassing. They passed beneath the canopy of trees, moving towards a more secluded and forested area of the park.

“Nothing!” Gintoki said, still giggling. “I live the other way, you know!”

“I know, I know.” Nakamura huffed, dropping Gintoki onto one of the many deserted park benches. Gintoki fell into it heavily, swaying for a moment from the movement. “You're just heavy, and you should probably drink some water. I'll grab you a bottle from the vending machine while I take a break.”

“Okay, okay.” Gintoki said, giggling still.

Man, this Nakamura guy had a pretty nice face, smiling like that as he turned away to go to the vending machine. What a nice guy, getting Gintoki a drink (non-alcoholic, but still). Made Gintoki think about someone else, someone he'd rather have care for him like this.

 _Hijikata has a nice face too._ Gintoki thought, bursting into another fit of giggles. _His face is just as nice as Zura's. Whoa. My friends are very attractive,_ _I'm a lucky guy!_ Hijikata was basically the Shinsengumi poster boy, after all, a nice face was to be expected. But to compare him to Katsura?

“Whoa.” Gintoki said as if he'd had an epiphany. “They'd be beautiful _together_.”

“What?” Nakamura asked as he sat down on the bench beside Gintoki, handing him an opened water bottle. “What did you say?”

“Nothing!” Gintoki laughed, accepting the water bottle and taking a mouthful. It was ice cold and painfully refreshing. It made Gintoki's stomach feel better even though it hadn't felt bad in the first place. “What did _you_ say?”

“I didn't say anything.” Nakamura said, taking a drink from his own bottle. “You're the one giggling over here like a school girl on her first date.”

“How do I know you again?” Gintoki asked, taking another refreshing mouthful, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “You're Bobby-kun, right?”

“Nakamura.” Nakamura said. “And we met at the stall.”

“Oh.” Gintoki said, accepting the answer despite the fact that he _shouldn't_ because it was vague and uninformative. His eyebrows furrowed together, and suddenly the situation wasn't as funny as it had been before. He took another drink of water knowing that it wasn't actually sobering him but feeling more alert anyway. “How do you know where I live, then?”

“You should slow down drinking that. Don't want to get sick, right? And you're the Odd Jobs boss, right?” Nakamura asked, leaning back on the bench. He glanced over, pulling out his cellphone. “You live above the snack shop? Everyone knows that.”

“Oh yeah. I guess hey?” Gintoki laughed, finishing off the water bottle in one go. He sat quietly for a moment, contemplating that. _Everyone knows where_ _I_ _live, hey? Isn't that a bad thing? I can't afford an office though. I never really gave it much thought. If someone wanted to hurt the kids, everyone knows where to go._

He definitely wasn't piss-drunk anymore, and he was definitely losing the happy high. What a bummer. He usually didn't emotionally crash until the next morning when he woke up with a killer hangover. He sort of felt cheated like his drunk high hadn't lasted him as long as the label had promised it would. _How long have I been spacing out?_

Aware that he had been silent for way too long, Gintoki cleared his throat. “Thanks for being a gentleman and taking me home. But I think I can make it from here, Mr. Natakura. Unless you live in the same direction?”

“Nakamura. I'm going in the same direction, yeah.” Nakamura said. He smiled when he glanced back over, all perfect teeth. “You should sit for another minute though, let the water settle. Really, you're pretty heavy. Solid muscle, huh?”

“Yup! I work out!” Gintoki said giggling, his vision suddenly swimming. It passed just as fast as it had happened. “Hey. Did you really buy me a drink the other day?”

“Nope, I never said I did.” Nakamura said. “You confused me with someone else there.”

“Oh.” Gintoki said. He started to giggle again. “But you took me home?”

“Nope.” Nakamura said, glancing over with a small smile. “I never said that either. Were you listening at all?”

 _Yes, yo_ _u said that_ _._ Gintoki stared at him blearily, watching his face double. _Whoops._ _I'm so drunk._ Blinking, Gintoki hummed in response, eyebrows creased together and throat closing up as he considered what Nakamura had just told him. _You said you took me home the other night..._ “You...” Gintoki's tongue felt heavy, slurring more than usual. “What?”

“What?” Nakamura asked with a laugh, screwing the cap onto his water bottle and standing up. “You ready to go?”

Gintoki shifted, but his head swam dangerously. He must have swayed because Nakamura placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Need a minute?” Nakamura asked, sitting back down. He was watching Gintoki, mouth pulled thin in worry. “You good?”

 _What a nice guy._ “Yeah.” Gintoki said, his hand going to his forehead. “Just… a minute.”

“Okay.” Nakamura said, voice laced with worry.

Gintoki sat still for a few moments, the wind blowing gently through his hair. It was cool on his flushed skin, chilled enough to keep him somewhat vigilant. But with every passing second, Gintoki felt his body getting heavier and heavier. His eyelids were drooping dangerously, his limbs going rigid and numb. He was suddenly very tired.

This wasn't normal, the excessive spinning and the heavy limbs. Something wasn't quite right, but Gintoki's tongue was starting to stick, words refusing to leave his mouth. Glancing over, he watched as Nakamura played on his phone, one leg crossed over the other like nothing was wrong. Was something even wrong? Gintoki was just drunk, right? He was just tired, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier and heavier with every passing second.

Losing track of both time and his surroundings, Gintoki suddenly lost balance, the world spinning around him. He slumped to the side, hands going out to catch himself on the bench before he had a chance to fall over. He remained like that, hunched over, head drifting closer to the bench boards as the moments ticked by, unable to push himself back up. This wasn't the usual blacking out. His arms were heavy, muscles straining to keep himself from collapsing let alone righting himself.

Belatedly, at the back of Gintoki's brain, he knew he had made a mistake. A big mistake.

A hand was suddenly on his shoulder, trying to support him, but the edges of Gintoki's vision were going black. Jerking away from the hand in sudden mistrust, Gintoki only managed to slump away from Nakamura, successfully putting no distance between them. He didn't catch himself this time as he lost balance, falling to his other side on the bench, limbs not coordinated and thoughts slow. He couldn't get up, there was no strength in his arms and he couldn't get his hands underneath him. His head lolled onto the bench tiredly.

_Did he drug me?_

“Hey?” Nakamura asked, standing up and crowding the remainder of Gintoki's vision. He placed a hand to Gintoki's forehead, concern still etched in his features. _Maybe h_ _e was_ too _nice._ “How are you feeling?”

 _Bad._ Gintoki thought as he glanced up above him, above Nakamura, finger-like branches lit up by the glow of the nearby vending machine. But his vision went black before he could say anything about how he felt, the fight forcefully leaving him as he passed out on the bench.


	2. You Never Show Your Best Card First, Idiot

Gintoki gasped, the morning air sharp and crisp in his lungs. He jerked upright so fast that his head swam and his vision momentarily went white. With a yelp, he ended up lying back down on his side, hands over his eyes, breath coming out short.

Before his head even had the chance to stop spinning, he realized that his whole body ached. His temples were throbbing painfully like he had a terrible migraine, the morning sun spearing through his closed eyelids to make the pounding worse. It was so bad that his stomach went sour. Bile rose up the back of his throat.

Doing a mental check of his body proved to be a bad idea. His arms shook just from holding them up to his face, muscles quivering in exhaustion. The rest of him didn't feel any better. He didn't dare move for a moment as confusion washed over him.

Sliding his hands down his face to cover his mouth, Gintoki forced his eyes open.

He was in the park, lying on the park bench like a homeless man. His eyebrows creased as he glanced around quickly, noticing that he was very much alone and very much where he had been the night before. The vending machine was only ten feet away, and there was a tree overhead with finger-like branches.

 _Did Nakamura just leave me here? Couldn't carry me home or something?_ Blinking, Gintoki steadied his breath before he lowered his arms beneath him to the bench. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, glancing around the park again just in case someone was out and about.

It was very early, the sun just gracing the sky with its presence. He doubted he would be disturbed. _Why am I so paranoid all of a sudden?_

Pain suddenly skipped up his lower back when he was half risen and his hips protested with a deep ache, staggering his progression. With a heavy pant, Gintoki lowered himself back down to lie on the bench, breathing deep. His thoughts were oddly silent as he did a second mental check of his body, skipping over the particular ache between his legs that he didn't want to address yet. _Lots of pain. Shit._

He moaned when he finally forced himself to stand, skipping the sitting up part completely by dropping his feet to the ground and rolling off the bench into a bent-over position. He kept his hands on the back of the bench for an extra moment so he could catch his breath. It was then, a few minutes later when he decided he needed to go home _now,_ that he noticed his yukata. It was tied around his waist properly, both sleeves covering both arms. Gintoki tried to lie to himself about what it meant, tried to tell himself that he hadn't been redressed because he had never been _undressed_ in the first place.

And, the cherry on the cake, his bokuto was missing.

“Oh fuck.” Gintoki whimpered, standing up straight, one hand on his hip like it could keep him from falling apart. He kept his eyes closed and his breath even as he worked past the pain, accepted it for what it was and promised himself he would attend to it later.

Everything was wrong. Very wrong.

He needed to go. Now.

He slowly hobbled out of the park with his hand still on his hip, his awkward gait slowly returning to something that looked normal. Focus was his best friend. When he was a block away from his house, he dropped the hand, forcing himself to move as naturally as he could. His mind was blank.

He passed in front of Otose's, his pace slow but steady. The first two stairs up to his floor challenged his composure, but he made it. He would make it the rest of the steps too, and put this incident behind him. It wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to him, and it certainly couldn't be as bad as things to come. He'd be fine.

Except, the door to _Snack Otose_ violently slid open, the old woman herself stepping out with a cigarette and a scowl. She looked Gintoki up and down – _God, don't look at me like that_ – her glower only deepening. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks.” Gintoki said, his voice surprisingly soft like it had been lost. His throat was dry, his voice weak. It surprised him more than it surprised Otose.

“The kids have been looking for you.” She said, cigarette to her lips so she could inhale deeply. She was frowning, foot tapping in impatience. “Nice of you to tell anyone where you were going. You know how they worry.”

“It's only morning.” Gintoki complained, his voice becoming more confident as he turned away. He didn't dare try to take the stairs with her watching him so closely.

“Yes, it is morning, and they've been looking since _yesterday_ morning.” Otose said. “You know better than this.”

 _Yesterday morning?_ Gintoki simply blinked past the information, an odd sense of dread settling into his stomach. _Never mind that. Just_ _piece of info_ _together_ _later_ _._

“Are they home?” He asked.

“No. They're out searching still.” Otose said. “They didn't even come home last night. You want to explain yourself to me?”

“No.” Gintoki said, because he genuinely didn't know where he had been or what had happened to him. As far as he knew, he had passed out on that bench and had woken up on that same bench in the same position. _But something went wrong along the way_ _._ _Something happened, and I don't want to talk about it._

“Come inside for a second.”

He climbed the steps to his own place instead, forcing himself to take them like he wasn't in pain, wasn't dying inside. Otose didn't call after him, didn't say anything at all at his blatant defiance. It was normal for him to disappear, after all. It had happened before.

_But never like this._

Once Gintoki was inside and the front door was closed and locked behind him, he leaned back against it and let himself breathe. Really breathe. It was shallow and fluttery, a hand going to his forehead as he tried to hold back the welling panic in his chest. His gasps turned into deep heaves, his breath turning wheezy as he suddenly stumbled out of his boots to the bathroom.

He locked the bathroom door behind him, leaning against it while he caught his breath. With his eyes closed, he ignored his body's pained protests as he slid down the wall, hands sinking into his hair. He jolted, the sensation of other hands gripping his curls – both comforting and aggressive – suddenly came back to him like a bad dream.

“Fuck.” He pulled his hands away, staring at them for a moment like they had been the ones to assault him. He blinked, suddenly distracted. His yukata sleeves had slid down his forearms, revealing pale skin and an abundance of black bruising. “Fuck!” Grabbing his sleeves to cover the marks and crossing his arms over his chest, Gintoki let his head thunk back into the wall. Took in a deep breath as he stared at the ceiling, trying to collect himself.

A moment passed.

There was no point in avoiding it.

Gintoki stood up, untying his yukata as he stepped into the shower room, letting the white fabric fall to the ground. He unzipped his trademark shirt, eyes lingering on the nasty hand print bruised just below the shirt sleeve on his left bicep. It wasn't a friendly mark, but it was better than the mess on his forearms.

Standing outside of the spray, he turned the shower on so that it wasn't quite warm, shrugging out of his shirt. His gaze roamed down his mostly bruise-free torso, focusing on the black spots on his hips, the bruises that continued to disappear down past the waistline of his pants. His eyes suddenly returned to his chest, stomach dropping.

There was a bite mark, a clear imprint of teeth around his left nipple. Suddenly, pain flared up the side of his neck and under his jaw, more bite marks stinging.

Eyes closed. A breath in. A breath out. _Maybe I got lucky?_

Gintoki shucked off the rest of his clothes and ducked beneath the shower spray, careful to keep the water off his face. The cool shower soaked through his hair, eyes still shut firmly, a shudder passing over him. He stood there until his hands went numb, and only then did he turn the hot water on. He briefly glanced over his inner thighs – more black hand prints and dried evidence of a really bad time – before washing.

The water was turned so hot it was burning his skin by the time he was done scrubbing himself. He skipped soaking in the bath. His muscles felt tenser than before, his head alarmingly silent against the dull throb. There was an ache in his chest as he slunk out from the bathroom in nothing but a towel, disappearing into his bedroom for clean clothes.

The kids hadn't returned yet, and he counted that as a blessing.

“Worse things have happened.” Gintoki lied to himself out loud, dressed and as clean as he could be, walking down the steps to Otose's door. He had found a long-sleeved shirt to hide the marks on his forearm, his yukata tied properly for once as an extra defense layer. _This_ _looks so suspicious. I'm just asking for questions._

He slid the door open to the snack shop, skulking inside the empty store like a guilty teen being caught after curfew. He couldn't just _not_ come and see Otose. Especially after she had told him to come inside and he had defiantly walked away. That was just asking for trouble.

The shop wasn't open, thankfully. Gintoki took a seat gingerly at the bar, eyes closed as pain shot up his back. His hips were aching, phantom grips on his waist, and he regretted not taking some pain killers before he had left. _Nothing I can't endure._

Suddenly, he wanted to book it back to his bedroom. He almost stood up and left, but Otose made her entrance.

“Out causing trouble?” Otose asked, coming out from her personal quarters behind the bar. She had two mugs of tea in her hands as she rounded the bar to sit a stool away from Gintoki. She eyed him up critically, no doubt knowing that something wasn't right. She passed one of the mugs over, leaving it within his reach.

“I guess.” Gintoki said, leaning his head onto his hand casually. He didn't meet her gaze, didn't even look at the tea. “Are the kids upset?”

“Of course.” Otose said. “Tried to tell them you're just a shitty person, but they insisted that you needed to be found.”

 _Just a shitty person._ For some reason, Gintoki took that more personally than usual. “Know where they are?”

“No idea. So you better stay here until they get back.” Otose said. “I hear you've been giving them more trouble than usual lately and they're upset.” _She knows it's been a bad week..._

This time, Gintoki had a genuine excuse for his absence the other night. But to admit he lost an entire _day_ under questionable circumstances beyond his control? Absolutely not. He would never admit it. He'd rather have Otose think he was turning back into that problematic corpse she had found on her husband's grave, all those years ago. Just a dead man walking, unstable and causing trouble everywhere he went.

“I'm going back upstairs.” Gintoki said, disregarding everything Otose had just said to him. He began to stand up slowly, intent on leaving.

“Sit.” Otose said. Her voice was stern, and despite wanting to get up and run, Gintoki settled for freezing where he stood. “Not every day you show off love bites like that.”

 _Oh shit._ He hadn't covered his neck, hadn't even looked in the mirror after washing himself off. Gintoki averted his eyes. _Shit! Calm down! Play it off as a night of passionate lovemaking!_ But the forced joke made his stomach flip, his imagination suddenly wandering. Wondering. It could have been consensual for all he knew – no. No way. That was just Hope talking, trying to keep an optimistic look on the situation. He knew what had gone down the previous day had been completely against his will. He couldn't remember besides fleeting thoughts and feelings, but the ache in his muscles told him he had fought with everything he had. The bruises on his arms told him he had been restrained, held down, and that it had taken a lot of force to keep him there. His hips and lower back told him he hadn't been ready for any of it. The minute tremble in his hands told him he wasn't okay with this. Any of this.

And he didn't know what to do about it.

It wasn't every day Gintoki felt so off-kilter, felt so out of place in his daily life.

“Gintoki.” Otose said, her voice odd. “Sit down.”

Gingerly, Gintoki sat back down, sighing deeply. His heart fluttered in anxiety because he couldn't explain himself if it came down to it. And if Otose asked for the truth, she had this way of getting it out of him. He owed it to her, always. But this time, there was nothing he could say.

“Is your drinking going to be a problem again?”

He almost laughed. _Not anymore, it won't be._ He glanced to the tea. Suddenly, he remembered being handed an open water bottle by a stranger, a stranger who knew his name, where he lived, as well as his drinking rounds. A polite stranger who had lied to him to get him into that park alone.

And just like that, he had been left vulnerable and exposed with a whole day missing from his memory and a future full of suspicion.

“It won't be a problem.” He said, suddenly on edge.

Otose's gaze seemed to penetrate, making him even more uncomfortable. She remained silent for a minute longer than necessary, her hands still wrapped around her mug. “It better not happen again. You can do what you need,” She finally said, looking at Gintoki's neck, “But you don't have to drown yourself too.”

_She thinks I…_

Gintoki swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

Otose wasn't satisfied with that answer. “Gintoki. If your drinking becomes a problem, you're not getting away with it this time.”

Suddenly, Gintoki's thoughts from two nights ago came back to him. Standing on that hill with his bloody sword. Part of the reason for drinking in the first place. Gintoki blinked, lost in thought, remembering most of the night up until the stranger had offered to take him home. _What had his name been?_ He remembered sitting on the bench and accepting the drink. Everything had gotten confusing after that. _What did he do to me? And why?_

“Go back upstairs. We're done here.” Otose finally said. She was disappointed in him, disappointed in his wandering attention. Disappointed that he wouldn't talk with her, wouldn't open up about what had happened the day before. If anything, his silence was reinforcing her suspicion that alcohol abuse and consensual sex had everything to do with his absence.

Gintoki didn't say anything. Simply stood up and left as fast as he could without seeming desperate. It wasn't until he was upstairs, back in his own house with the door locked behind him again that it really hit him. He slid down the door, hands over his face, breath labored and eyes burning.

His break in composure didn't last very long.

He got up a few minutes later, skulking through his bathroom again to find some pain relievers. Popped four of them even though the recommended dose was two. He stood at the sink, eyes lowered from the mirror as he splashed cold water onto his face – never too much over his mouth or nose – to help clear his head. After patting his skin try with a towel, he braved the mirror, eyes landing on the bites.

They flared up both sides of his neck from his collar bone up to his ears, deep and purple and clear as day. There was bruising along one side of his jaw too, possibly from a hand holding him down. His lip was split and bags under his eyes. He really should have looked in the mirror _before_ going to see Otose.

“Fuck.” Gintoki sighed, head spinning in pain as he contemplated how he could hide it. Anything he covered them with would look suspicious. It was late fall, but it was still warm out, so a scarf wouldn't do. Turtlenecks were for people like Tatsuma and makeup was more expensive than it was worth. Bandages would only draw concern, make the kids think he went on a job without them. They would demand to see, to make sure Gintoki had properly cleaned any of the wounds, resulting in them _seeing_ the marks anyway.

There was nothing he could do about them. Unless he zipped his shirt up further? He zipped it, hiding only half of his neck. _Better than nothing_ _for now. Bandages might be the way to go. I have some right?_

Just then, the front door slid violently open, Kagura's voice angrier than ever before. “Gin-chan! I know you're in here! Granny told us you came home!”

“Kagura, calm down.” Shinpachi said, his voice quieter. “Take off your shoes. Don't run- Sadaharu! Put down Gin's boot!”

 _Shit._ The bathroom door wasn't locked. Gintoki glanced over to it, wondering if he could sneakily lock it, just as the handle turned. Kagura violently whipped it open, the handle slamming a hole through the wall when it collided. Her face was red in anger, teeth bared.

“Gin-chan! Where were you yesterday!” She yelled, feet slapping heavily into the bathroom. “You ditched us with that promising client and he wouldn't give us the job! I knew we let you have too much money! You blew it all, didn't you! You promised to take me to-” She suddenly halted, eyes drifting from his face.

Gintoki turned away, staring back at the mirror. “I-”

“You were with a lady!” Kagura yelled, eyes on his neck. Her mouth opened in disbelief. She stuttered before slamming her foot down again for good measure, hands balling into fists. “You ditched us to go get drunk and sleep with pretty women!”

Gintoki flinched.

“That was after pachinko.” Gintoki said. Lied straight through his teeth. He sighed, leaning on the sink and letting his head drop, hair shadowing his face. “Can you stop yelling? Gin-chan has a headache and-”

“You better have a headache!” Kagura yelled. “I can't believe I was worried about you! You're the worst! I can't believe you forgot!”

She suddenly whirled where she stood, storming out of the bathroom. Gintoki sighed again, placing a hand against his face. _God, this day just keeps getting worse and worse._

“Kagura, where are you going?” Shinpachi asked desperately.

Gintoki picked himself up from the sink, wandering over to the door frame. He didn't want it to be like this, but he didn't know how to rectify the situation.

Kagura shoved her feet into her shoes, throwing the front door open again. She didn't look back. “Sadaharu!” She yelled, umbrella tapping against her shoulder angrily as she stormed outside. Sadaharu yipped, taking one of Gintoki's boots with him and running out the front door after her.

“Kagura! That client is coming back in an hour!” Shinpachi yelled. “Come back, please!”

“Let her go.” Gintoki said, his voice still soft from disuse. Or screaming. What did he know? What did he know about anything?

Shinpachi turned, glasses glinting ominously. “You're really terrible, you know that? Kagura was so excited all week to go to that new all-you-can-eat restaurant and you forgot, didn't you? About her birthday plans? You were the one who made them and you ditched! Why would you make them if you were going to ditch!”

Gintoki tried not to crumble inside. _Shit, that was yesterday, right? I knew, I remembered. I just..._

“I know. I'm sorry.” He said. He would apologize to Kagura later when she came back after blowing off some steam. He'd take her to the restaurant still, maybe tomorrow when he was feeling better. It wouldn't be the grand opening, but they would still go. _Better late than never, right?_ And her birthday plans? Well, he still had her gift hiding in his closet, and they could- who was he kidding? He couldn't take Kagura to a surprise birthday dinner at the Shimura's now. Gintoki had been the one to make the arrangements and invite their friends. Had been the one to buy the movie tickets for the afternoon, before the surprise party later in the evening. Had been the one to disappear –

_Fuck..._

“Don't apologize to me and don't you dare apologize to her.” Shinpachi said with bite. “How many times has this happened now? You're always making promises you can't keep, and disappearing without saying anything to us! Sometimes it's to protect us, I get it, but usually, it's just so you can go out and drink and blow all of your money! Do you know how worried we were? How much bullshit we're putting up with?” Shinpachi said, voice raising.

“Shinpachi,” Gintoki said.

“You can't keep doing this to us! Monday, you took a client's money before doing the work, never told us about the job, and then you forgot all about it. They came back yesterday for a refund and we had nothing to give them, so we did the job plus some extra! On Kagura's _birthday_! Tuesday we did that roofing job for that old lady, remember? It was the one you showed up drunk for? At two in the afternoon and me and Kagura had to cover for you and said you were high on cough syrup? Well, the old lady called last night and said the roof caved in, all the spots _you_ did. And don't even get me started on the money that disappeared on Wednesday! It's been all week with you! Friday you were supposed to help sister set up the party decorations but Sougo said he saw you out drinking! And then yesterday? Where the hell were you! Do you have any idea how upset Kagura was yesterday?”

Gintoki remained frozen in the doorway, his head going light. His dead-fish look was in place because Shinpachi didn't see anything wrong.

“Uh!” Shinpachi threw his hands up in frustration. The gesture would have been comical in any other situation, but Gintoki looked away. Ashamed. These kids deserved better than him. More.

Shinpachi huffed as he belatedly shut the front door, turning around to rearrange their shoes. His voice took on an emotionless tone. “One of the clients from yesterday is coming back in an hour because he wants to meet with you. Make sure you're on your best behavior. And brush your teeth. You smell like sake still.”

No, it didn't. It didn't smell like sake at all, didn't taste like it either. But he turned back into the bathroom and did as he was told anyway.

 

–

 

“Katsura, I'm glad you could meet with me again!” Nakamura said, his voice much lighter and chipper than last time. He fell into his chair, the extra flourish pulling a frown out of Katsura. “I'm sure you saw part of your gift on the news, yesterday? Did you like it?”

“I did not.” Katsura said, taking his seat at the desk. Again. He had a number of issues with Nakamura now, and that was the only reason why he had come back when he had been handed a _formal_ invitation. Literally. Nakamura's bald door-guard-man-person had bumped into Katsura on the street Saturday night, handing him a little white envelope with a sparkly card inside. The location and time had been written on the card like some juicy evidence for the police in bad cop shows.

Honestly. How stupid was this man? He didn't look any older than Katsura himself, yet he acted like a child playing games. And he had the audacity to tell Katsura he was handing over his faction so it could be molded back into the terror it once was?

“If you think bombing an Amanto embassy and blaming it on the Joui is going to get you my faction, you've made a poor move.” Katsura said. “And before you ask, the answer is still no. I am simply here to inform you of the rules and consequences.”

“Rules and _consequences_?” Nakamura asked. Both of his eyebrows shot up at the words as he swung in his chair to face Katsura. He crossed one leg over the other, fingers pyramiding together. He looked amused. “Please. Enlighten me on your _rules_ _and consequences_ _._ ”

Katsura squared his jaw. This fucker, talking to him like that? Did he forget that Katsura was a _terrorist?_ “If you bomb another embassy under the name of Joui, I will bomb _you_.”

Nakamura whistled, his grin pulling tight.

“And if your bald door-man bumps into me on the street again and hands me a fancy card, I will burn it and this shop down.” Katsura said. “No casualties of course, because you and all of your employees, both paid and unpaid, will be in jail.”

“Oh?” Nakamura said. “And how will you have us all arrested? What ever will be our charges?”

Katsura smirked. He wasn't going to spoil what he learned. One simply did not show their best cards during UNO, after all. Having Nakamura arrested would be as simple as whispering his name into the Chief of the Special Police's ear. Easy. It's not like Katsura _hasn't_ done it before.

“Hopefully you don't find out.” Katsura said. “I would rather us leave on pleasant terms. This is all I came to discuss. I understand you only have fifty-six men under your name. What was their gang name again? The one your father gave them?”

Nakamura huffed. “Doing your homework, I see. Doesn't matter. We're Joui now, and we're just fifty-six more to your hundreds of men.”

“Fake Joui, maybe.” Katsura said. “Do you know how many fake Joui members I've personally had incarcerated? Do you know how easy it would be to have all fifty-six of you gone? You're not taking my faction. I will not allow you to join, and even if you walked in and tried to take command, you wouldn't get very far.”

“No, which is why I need you.” Nakamura said. He leaned back from his desk, pulling open his drawer. “I told you last time, Katsura. I can be very persuasive.”

Katsura watched with mild interest as Nakamura pulled out two large manilla envelopes from inside of his desk. One of the envelopes was notably newer than the other, but he tossed both of them onto the shiny wooden surface none the less. The envelopes slid Katsura's way, and for a quick moment, Katsura thought they might explode.

He relaxed, eyes flicking back up to Nakamura. “And what are these?”

“Well, that envelope there on the right,” Nakamura said, gesturing to the older one, “has some pretty questionable photos of you, I'd say. Why don't you take a look?”

“No thanks.” Katsura said. “There are questionable photos of me _everywhere_. You're not the only man who thinks he can blackmail me, and if you think I have any shame, then you are terribly mistaken.”

“See, that's where you're wrong.” Nakamura said. He sat up, elbows leaning against the table again. “Let me tell you a secret. I may be only fifty-six men strong, not including me of course, but I have numerous allies. Since my father passed away, I've been investing and making friends. My father didn't have help or big goals, but I do. I will command the Joui, and I will rid this country of the Amanto. I told you I will fund the Joui, and I wasn't joking. My income has come from sales, under the table of course. To be specific, they are sales from a certain _genre_ of homemade videos for the less savory single men in this country. Everyone is disgusting. The Amanto are _disgusting_. And I'm making sure I spread their foulness so this country can see them for the animals they are.”

Katsura's lip twitched.

“And I happen to have a cute little video of _you_.” Nakamura said. His face changed then, dark eyes widening, teeth showing like a mongrel baring his fangs. “Looked like you had a bad time in a bar, one night. Do you remember what you were wearing? What you were saying and how drunk you were? Combine those with your pretty looks, and you were just asking for that Amanto to take you home. To bed you on camera.” He snorted. “Whether you wanted him to or not.”

Katsura remained stoic. He was secretly impressed by his own composure and the fact that he didn't immediately stab the man. “My answer is still no.”

“Even if I release it? Spread it online?” Nakamura said. He didn't sound surprised. “Even if I saved and printed off the parts where you looked like you were enjoying yourself? What would the country think of it's most formidable terrorist then? Thinking he willingly sleeps with the aliens he hates?”

Katsura laughed because he didn't know what else to do. “It doesn't change anything. You understand that I've been photo-shopped into videos with yetis, right? I've been spotted in the woods, I've been spotted overseas. I've been spotted _in_ the sea. It's just one more thing on the internet that may or may not be true. It doesn't change anything. The country won't view me any different, because I am who I am regardless of that. I am Katsura Kotarou, the leader of the Joui, and you're just pissy because you are not allowed to join my faction.”

Katsura stood up. “I am leaving. Do what you want with the video and the photos. It doesn't matter if they exist. If you bomb another embassy, I will bomb you, and then you won't be a problem anymore, leaked video or not.”

“Ah, but Katsura.” Nakamura said. He leaned back in his chair, looking indifferent by everything that had just been said. “Don't you want to know what's in the _other_ envelope?”

“I don't really care.” Katsura said. “You'd be best to stay out of my way. You have no worries that I will stay out of yours.”

Nakamura clasped his hands over his stomach, letting the office chair rock back. “But I'm sure Gintoki cares what's in it.”

 _Don't take the bait. Don't take the bait! Don't drag Gintoki into this!_ Katsura turned away. His voice remained just as indifferent as it had been before. “I'm sure he doesn't care either.” He walked away, shaking hands going to the sleeves of his yukata. _This man is going to die. I'm going to kill him, whether he bombs another embassy or not. Quick and to the point. He'll die in vain like some background character who dies off-screen. And then I'll gut him. The Shinsengumi will find his insides_ everywhere.

“I told you that after three o'clock on Friday I would be taking action. While you don't mind having your Amanto kink exposed online, I'm sure Gintoki does.” Nakamura said. “And I don't mean Gintoki minds me exposing _you._ ”

Katsura stopped. He was only three feet away from the door, but his hands weren't quivering anymore.

“If you don't care about your video and Gintoki doesn't care about his video, then maybe it will be one of his kids next time. That little Yato girl he keeps is at a prime age right now, you know? There's a high demand for girls her age. Her name is Kagura, isn't it?” Nakamura said. “Think he'd care then? Think he'll care when he finds out you let it happen? I told you. I've been investing and making friends.”

Katsura did not move.

“Come sit down, Katsura. Look at all the photos I took of Gintoki.” Nakamura said conversationally. He reached out for the newer envelope, picking it up just as Katsura turned back to him. “Let's talk about the Joui for a minute. Oh ho, don't look so scary. I solemnly swear that the kids will be safe as long as I live and you do what I say. Or does it not matter in the grand scheme of things?”

Forget the quick death. This man was going to be gutted alive.

Nakamura tapped the envelope, pictures spilling dramatically out over his desk. Even from here, Katsura knew what was happening in them, happening to Gintoki. And he knew it was his fault.

“Sit.” Nakamura commanded.

Resigned, Katsura sat back down.


	3. Sometimes You Don't Realize It's A Long Arc Until It's Too Late

At seven o'clock Tuesday morning, November 6th, Hijikata was half a second away from ordering everyone to commit seppuku.

“What do you _mean_ you finished half the report with 'anpan'?” Hijikata asked, his tone testily bland. He had just gotten up, had made it just outside his bedroom door when Yamazaki had stopped him. His hair was still rumpled with bed head. He hadn't had his morning cigarette. He hadn't even _eaten_ let alone consumed any mayonnaise. His sleep had been light, rough, too short. He was functioning off nothing more than a nap, really. His current mood? Holy fuck.

“Uh, well.” Yamazaki laughed nervously, glancing down to his shoes. “So. _You know_.”

“You were supposed to write a report. Detail the movements of the Joui out of their _only known_ hideout. And what is this? In my hand? This says anpan. For two pages. I have looked at two pages so far, and all I see is 'anpan'. _Yamazaki_.”

“I'm sorry!” Yamazaki said, bowing. “I'll promise to try and do better in the future, Vice-Chief! It's just, there wasn't much activity to document and I had just gotten back from a week-long stakeout, and that was after a two-week stakeout!”

“You watched them for just over twenty-four hours!” Hijikata said, waving the report in the air between them. “How did you go downhill so fast in twenty-four hours!”

“I'm sorry!” Yamazaki said again.

“Was Katsura at least there?” Hijikata asked, huffing and tucking the report under his arm. That was the important question really. _Is he going back to his old ways? Do I seriously need to start trying to arrest him again? Figure out how that bastard keeps escaping his jail cell only hours after been processed and detained?_

“Um. No, sir.” Yamazaki said. He stood up straight like he had something important to say. “He wasn't there, but there were a few new faces. It looks like he recently recruited new members. Also, one of them saw me but didn't seem to realize who I was or what I was doing. Maybe.”

“What do you mean, one of them saw you?” Hijikata asked, eyebrow twitching. “Walk with me.”

They set out down the hallway because Hijikata's stomach growled in irritation. He planned to review the report during breakfast, and then he needed to get back on the case. Katsura couldn't just blow up an entire embassy out of nowhere, killing more than two-hundred Amanto, and get away with it. This sounded like Katsura from a few years ago, destroying buildings and lives in one fell swoop. And if that was the case, he was going to have to deal with Hijikata, and no one wanted to deal with Hijikata like this.

_Why is this happening again?_

“Well. I mean. He saw me? I was out getting anpan–” Yamazaki hurried past the admittance when Hijikata sharply turned his gaze on him, “when the Joui saw me enter the building. He looked, er, watched me, and then went back to whatever he was doing.”

“So.” Hijikata said as they entered the mess hall, “What you're saying is, is that you've jeopardized the mission.”

“I...” Yamazaki stopped talking, following Hijikata to the line up for breakfast.

Hijikata sighed. Placed a hand to his forehead because he suddenly needed a second cigarette. “Just. It's fine. There was probably no information there anyway.”

Yamazaki hummed in agreement or disappointment, and they got their food.

They sat down at the table to eat. Hijikata reviewed the report – there wasn't much to review – finishing the last page of messily scribbled anpan just in time for Sougo to take a seat beside him.

“You're still alive, Hijikata?” Sougo asked, glancing to the file Hijikata had just set down. “Is that the report from the stakeout?”

“If you want to call it a report.” Hijikata mumbled, sliding the file over. “Anything new on your end?”

“No.” Sougo said. He suddenly sounded just as tired as Hijikata did. “Kondou had a good lead, but we didn't catch any Joui because there was a baby gorilla in the street. Katsura has been off the radar since the incident. The last we saw him was Saturday, and we haven't seen or heard anything from him since.”

 _Right, we saw Katsura at_ _Otae's._ Hijikata thought. Suddenly, through the cloud of work and confusion, Hijikata thought about Gintoki, and how much work the man had gone through to make sure that the surprise party had remained a surprise. The Shimura's residence had been bustling with friends, yet amongst the entire cast, Gintoki had not been found. _That permy bastard didn't even show up._ And immediately after that thought, another one suddenly occurred.

“It doesn't make sense.” Hijikata said. He glanced over to Sougo, who didn't even look up from his breakfast. “We saw Zura on Saturday. That didn't look like a man about to bomb an embassy, and he knew we were going to be there. He hasn't had casualties like this in years.”

“Yeah, but he's the most wanted man in the country, Hijikata. We sent him to the prison island, and he was the first person in history to successfully both escape _and_ make it back to the mainland.” Sougo said. “Don't worry, you slacker. Kondou and I already thought about it. Just because we saw Katsura at the party in disguise doesn't mean he hadn't already set up the plans to bomb the embassy. He has a huge faction, remember? It would have taken weeks of planning. You just have too much faith in him. Don't forget. He's a terrorist.”

Sougo had a point, but at the same time, he was overlooking Gintoki's disappearance. _But does Gintoki's disappearance have anything to with this, or was it just a fluke? No. Gintoki had no reason_ not _to be at the party._

Drumming his fingers on the table, Hijikata glanced back to his breakfast. _Something is just weird. Gintoki no-shows to Kagura's birthday party, the party he planned, and then Katsura bombs an embassy almost exactly twenty-four hours later?_ Clicking his tongue, he finished eating. It's not like he would figure out the missing puzzle piece right then. After breakfast, he would just have to smoke himself two cigarettes at most and then head out to do some leg work. Some asking around.

As much as he hated suspecting Gintoki, his lack of appearance was incredibly suspicious. And if anyone knew where Katsura was or what he was doing, it would be Gintoki.

Setting out from the barracks three smokes later with his hair in order, Hijikata contemplated how he would approach the situation. Gintoki would close off the second Hijikata mentioned Katsura, but Gintoki still had cues. Very, very, _very_ subtle tells that Hijikata only knew from years of knowing the man (and maybe watching him closely for questionable reasons) but they would be clues none the less.

That's all Hijikata could ask for right now. Clues.

 

–

 

Gintoki was tired still. Very tired. It was almost nine in the morning, and Kagura hadn't stopped talking since they had gotten up half an hour ago. She was excited, and he couldn't blame her. They had a job to do later in the morning after Shinpachi arrived and reminded him what it was, and Gintoki had promised, _extra promised_ , he would finally take her to that new all-you-can-eat buffet today.

But he hadn't been sleeping well and his energy levels were at an all-time low. He had been exhausted since Sunday morning when he had woken up on that park bench. Had been quiet the past day, more subdued than usual, but he was already bouncing back. The kids had just assumed it was because of the argument that had happened over his disappearance. Kagura had been very upset, rightfully so, and had said some things she had actually apologized for later. All Gintoki could do was promise it wouldn't happen again and offer her food in exchange for forgiveness.

With his cheek pressed against the smooth wood of his desk, Gintoki let his eyes flutter shut for a moment. He knew the moment Shinpachi arrived, he'd be woken up. A nap now wouldn't hurt, would it?

“Whoah, Shinpachi's here!” Kagura said, what felt like seconds later. She rushed out of the room into the entrance, babbling about something or other.

Gintoki groaned, face still pressed into the desk. _Already? I literally just closed my eyes. Literally._

A few moments later, someone entered the main room, and it wasn't Kagura.

Only because he had to, Gintoki raised his head to regard his visitor. He half expected it to be Shinpachi, mad at him over something else he forgot he had done. Half expected it to be Otose.

“Oh.” He said, tired eyes landing on Hijikata standing in his doorway in full uniform. _Did he just let himself into my house? Again?_ “Where did Kagura go?”

“Downstairs to bother your landlady for a moment.” Hijikata said.

Gintoki didn't speak. Hijikata was staring at him, but his pretty eyes were cast down towards the bandages wrapped loosely around Gintoki's neck. Gintoki had thrown on another long-sleeve that morning, nothing more than maybe a hint of bandages poking out from beneath the sleeve, but it was enough. Gintoki suddenly got a bad feeling. Usually, his heart lurched with warmth when he saw Hijikata, but today there was suddenly a chill in his hands.

“Where'd you get those injuries?” Hijikata asked conversationally. Too conversationally. Like he knew something.

Automatically, Gintoki's face went slack. He leaned his chin into his hand, dead-fish eyes on Hijikata. “What injuries, officer?”

Hijikata clicked his tongue. Hands in his pockets, he approached the desk. Whether to get a better look or to have a more personal conversation, Gintoki didn't know. Yet. He was sure he was about to find out.

“The injuries under the bandages, you idiot.” Hijikata said. He sounded tired. He looked tired. There were bags under his eyes like he had been up all night, and he was using that questioning tone. The one he used when he was fishing for information. He didn't usually make house calls just because they were friends, they had more of an _'_ _I accidentally ran into on the street, literally, and now we're hanging out while I finish a job'_ kind of friendship. A shame, if you asked Gintoki.

_Is he investigating me?_

Gintoki wasn't stupid. He knew about the bombing incident the other day. He knew Zura's name was written all over it, and he knew Zura hadn't been around. Katsura had certain _places_ he liked to go, but Gintoki hadn't seen a hair from him. He knew Hijikata was obligated to investigate, and that Hijikata probably hadn't been finding any leads, but to come down here and straightforwardly ask him?

_The bandages probably look suspicious…_

Apparently, Gintoki remained silent too long.

“Where were you on Saturday?” Hijikata asked. He placed a hand on the desk, leaning forward ever so slightly. He was staring intently, eyes now meeting Gintoki's. His face was hard to read, but Gintoki suspected there was concern under that layer of suspicion. It made his stomach flip.

Gintoki glanced up to him. “Why are you asking?”

“Because you put effort into planning that surprise party, just to no show? No way.” Hijikata said. “Listen. I'm asking because. Well, it was strange. Kagura was really upset and no one had any idea where you were. The kids said you hadn't come back since the night before. And then there was that bombing the next day.”

“What are you saying?” Gintoki asked, voice suddenly bland.

“I'm asking if you have an alibi.” Hijikata said. “I don't need it. Not now. But if you do need one, do you have it?”

 _No._ Gintoki cracked a smile because this was just his rotten luck. Did the police suspect he had a part in this? Was he a suspect or was Hijikata just fishing? _Zura, what the hell are you doing!_ “Of course I have one.”

Hijikata blinked at him. His lip twitched.

He didn't believe it. At all.

“Do you think I'll need an alibi?” Gintoki asked.

“Where were you?” Hijikata asked again instead. His face changed this time. Softer. The concern was showing through. “I personally don't think you have anything to do with the bombing. You wouldn't throw a party that Katsura showed up to, and then no show so there were multiple witnesses.”

“I wouldn't.” Gintoki agreed. He lowered his gaze for a brief moment. He decided to go with the half-truth. The story he had told Kagura and Shinpachi, with a few extra details. If he got all soft and honest, Hijikata would eat it up and leave him alone about it. Gintoki felt bad, but his need to hide from this was stronger than his guilt for once.

“I got really drunk Friday night. It wasn't intentional, just sort of happened.” Gintoki said. “I...”

He clammed up and it wasn't an act. His eyebrows creased, the half-truth stuck in his throat. Hijikata was unmoving, waiting patiently for Gintoki to continue. His face changed again, but Gintoki couldn't even look at him. _Just spit it out. He won't press_ _after._

“I...” His throat went dry. When did he start clamming up, half-lying to Hijikata? “Went home… with someone.” _God, that sounds so suspicious._

Hijikata didn't immediately say anything, and Gintoki didn't feel like offering anything else. But after a moment, he continued. “It was a mistake. I… made a mistake.”

He didn't feel any better. If anything, the admittance made Gintoki feel worse. And suddenly, he was waking up on that park bench again, staggering home, wondering.

That was the problem. He didn't know what _happened_ , but at the same time, he _knew_.

“Hey.” Hijikata said. His voice was soft, nothing more than a whisper. “You good?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Gintoki said, voice too loud for the tenderness that Hijikata brought. He sat up, eyes still a bit downcast. He chuckled. “Just. Don't mention it. Kagura's still mad. I'm working on it, it was just a bad decision. I really hope you don't think I had anything to do with Zura. It was just bad timing, I guess.”

“Okay. If you're telling me the truth, I can keep you out of this.” Hijikata said. He stood up from the desk, appeased.

It was then, that Kagura came back upstairs, yelling at Shinpachi about Shinsengumi dogs.

“Hey.” Hijikata said quick. “One last question. See Zura lately?”

“Hey police dog! Are you arresting Gin-chan? We have a job now!” Kagura yelled, throwing open the front door and then eventually the main door. She appeared in the room, eyebrows drawn and finger-pointing. “Can you arrest him once we're done?”

“But then he won't be able to take you to that buffet.” Shinpachi reminded.

“So?” Kagura asked, whirling on him with her finger pointing his way. “We can just get Mayora to take us instead. Right Mayora? Are you paying for my meal or is Gin-chan? Make your decision carefully.”

Hijikata clicked his tongue. He smiled before turning away. “Make sure you milk him for every last yen.” He said, heading towards the door.

“Hey, don't encourage them!” Gintoki said. Suddenly, he didn't feel as bad as he did moments ago. Suddenly, that odd ache in his chest was gone and his hands were warming up. “Kagura's going to eat our money's worth anyway!”

“Sure heck I am, Aru!” Kagura said, bounding over to the desk with endless energy.

“What kind of sentence was that?”

“Good luck, Yorozuya.” Hijikata said. He glanced over his shoulder. His expression was fond. “I'll see you around.”

“Get out of here, you tax-thief!” Gintoki called with no bite. He watched as Hijikata disappeared from view, his expression probably just as fond. How stupid.

And now, moments after that heavy admittance, Gintoki suddenly felt better. A little bit lighter, like he wasn't carrying the load on his own. There was another light to look at on his darker days.

The analogy was ruined by Kagura, grabbing onto both of his hands and dragging him out of his chair. “Come on! Come on! Let's go!”

“We're patching a roof.” Shinpachi said, his voice warning. “Make sure you don't screw it up.”

“Okay, okay.” Gintoki said, following after Kagura because he didn't really have a choice in the matter. Her hand was on his, and she could throw him half way across Edo if she wanted too. But he squeezed her hand back as he stumbled through his own house, a sense of content washing over him. This was okay. It would be okay.

“I'm on my best behavior, don't worry.” Gintoki said. “Gin-chan's always on his best behavior!”

“No, you're not! Mama's tired of grounding you!” Kagura said.

“You better be.” Shinpachi said. But he smiled.

 

–

 

Katsura, begrudgingly, let Nakamura and his fifty-six hooligans join his ranks. It had been the right choice, the safe choice. He had to keep reminding himself that he was making the right decision.

That fiasco had occurred during a meeting in the morning, and as soon as Katsura had introduced them and split every single one of them up amongst his ranks, he had seen that _look_ Nakamura had given him. He had almost laughed, right there, in front of them all.

He had been instructed to give Nakamura a higher rank. To say something like, _this is the leader of these assholes, take him under your wing so he can_ _learn how to_ _be a commander_ _because clearly, he sucks_ _._ He had been _told_ to group Nakamura's men off into at least pairs, to keep them close together.

But when did Katsura ever listen? Katsura had cracked a smile, and he had known right then it could come back to bite him. He had expected it. But it had been fun in the moment and had served his purposes. Because now Nakamura's oh-so formidable army had been split up so that every man had been left to fend for himself and alone. Katsura could pick them off one by one if he so chose. The threat was there. They could bond back together and betray the Joui, or they could stand alone in their groups and jobs and remain vulnerable.

Nakamura was biting back now.

They were in that fancy office behind the barber shop again, and Katsura was standing by the chair instead of sitting in it. Nakamura had already taken a seat, but his face was different from before. It was a little more rigid, a little more blank than before. Katsura was already furious, mad at himself because he was _nervous_. Like he had something to fear. Like this man sitting at the desk before him actually had power over him, and it was like that power scared him.

 _Just remember why you're doing this._ Katsura smiled pleasantly. “You wanted a spontaneous meeting, my new recruit?”

Nakamura scoffed. He glanced up finally, hands clasped together instead of pyramiding, and Katsura wondered if that meant he was in a foul mood. A foul mood because of Katsura himself. Good. Katsura saved the behavior away so he knew in the future when his antics were paying off.

“Katsura, I understand you are exploring my boundaries.” Nakamura said like he was some dog trying to get on the couch. “But I am not going to let you get away with anything. I can't. You understand, right? If our roles were reversed, and you had a terrorist pushing your bounds trying to get his control back, you would keep their leash as tight as you could?”

He would, but Katsura wouldn’t have taken this route in the first place. Wouldn't have used someone else as a stepping stone to success, because this was a dangerous game Nakamura was playing. _I wouldn't_ _do it like this_ _, would I?_

“So, you understand that there are consequences to what happened earlier?” Nakamura said. He glanced up, smile almost sad. Tired. Annoyed. _Good_. “If I tell you to do something, just do it. Don't short me, or things are going to have to escalate. You understand I only have so much small stuff to use against you. Eventually, minor errors are going to affect Gintoki every time.”

 _Ah. Right. The reason why I can't just get rid of him._ Katsura crossed his arms, hands disappearing into his sleeves. He fixed Nakamura with a blank stare, already guessing where this was going. He had a few new problems with Nakamura. One being that he couldn't just bite back, because Nakamura _wanted_ him to turn to violence. Two being that anything Katsura did to Nakamura could impact Gintoki right now, and Katsura didn't want to take that chance. Gintoki was strong, he knew Gintoki would bounce back, but Katsura couldn't use him like that. He just couldn't.

“So, because of your disobedience, I have chosen a minor punishment, to discourage this behavior from becoming a habit.” Nakamura said. “I've decided that those photos of you are going online. Immediately. If you want Gintoki's photos to stay safe, I'd pair me up with one of your squad leaders by tomorrow. Tell him I have potential, that I'm in your favor. It's not that hard, Katsura. You understand that this is the only slap on the wrist you're getting, right?”

Katsura's face didn't change, but he did contemplate murder for a fast second. Bloody murder. Something worthy of Takasugi, the kind of bloodshed that usually had Katsura's eyes wide and a scold on his lips. _I can do that, you know. I've been with those idiots long enough to know exactly how Takasugi likes to make a mess._

But. He didn't strike him. “Sure.” Katsura said simply. “But if you leak the photos, there will be consequences for you, too.”

“Oh?” Nakamura asked. “You see Katsura. This is the exact kind of behavior I'm trying to discourage you from.”

 _If someone is testing your boundaries, you need to keep the leash tight, right?_ “What's your favorite number?” Katsura asked.

Nakamura hummed in thought. He paused, long enough that it was possible Katsura was going to have to make up his own number. He wouldn't repeat his question. Never. This was a power struggle and Katsura needed to recognize that he wasn't quite keeping up.

“I like to be number one.” Nakamura finally said. He was grinning, wide eyes and teeth bared. “I wouldn't retaliate if I were you. There will be consequences for _that_ , too. And then what? Is this really worth hurting your friends over?”

“There will consequences for that.” Katsura said. Dead-panned, making a statement. He wasn't going down without a fight. He hoped Nakamura reconsidered Gintoki's importance. He hoped he saw a threat in Katsura's confidence, his stubbornness.

Nakamura huffed. “We'll see. Leave. You should prepare yourself for the blow out over those photos.”

Irked, Katsura left. Outside, he might have needed a moment to shakily regain his composure.

 

–

 

“I'm so excited!” Kagura yelled in the doorway to the all-you-can-eat restaurant. It was huge and bright, and clean. It looked brand new and fancy still, something the kids weren't used to. The restaurant was packed with people, the dinner buffet fresh. “Is there a trick? Is there a bad plot device? Is something going to happen? Am I really allowed to eat all of this for free?”

“Kagura! Calm down before we get kicked out!” Shinpachi whispered, nudging her with his elbow. “Gin-san! Remind her not to cause a scene!”

Gintoki smiled and shrugged. “What are you saying, I should also be making a scene?”

“Gin-san!”

When it was their turn, the host lead them to a corner booth, setting down several drink menus in case they wanted something extra. He then set off back to his post, a waitress stopping by just long enough to drop off a few glasses of water and fresh cutlery.

Gintoki sunk into the bench cushions, secretly pleased with the whole experience so far. There was something about eating food in a fancy place that lifted his mood.

“Can we go? Can I go get a plate now? Am I allowed to take whatever I want?” Kagura asked, big blue eyes turned to Gintoki and the widest smile he had seen over the past few days.

God, what a stupid kid. He wished he could get this excited about food – wait he totally got this excited over parfaits.

“Yeah, yeah, let's go. Only take one plate though, you're allowed to go back for seconds.” He said, getting up with her. She jumped out of the chair, Shinpachi close behind her. Why didn't he think about this earlier? Sure, buffets were expensive, but so was feeding Kagura in general. It was possible he could _save_ money taking her to these places because she would leave with a full stomach. And she would eat their money’s worth, no problem, if not more. _And_ Gintoki didn't have to cook, not that he minded cooking.

Gintoki followed Kagura down to the buffet, Shinpachi staying close behind her. They grabbed plates amongst the crowd, and Gintoki just happened to notice that Kagura's bare arm had accidentally brushed the other stack of plates when she had grabbed hers.

 _You know what. This place might be a germ fest_ _already_ _._ But what did Gintoki care? About germs? They were loaded with germs. His house was loaded with germs.

And when he was over at the dessert counter, filling up at least half his plate with little treats and snacks, he might have noticed an older man sneeze. Into his sleeve, at least, but then the old guy simply brushed that hand off on his pants and carried on. And then that sleeve might have accidentally brushed the counter. Where a lady put her hand down, and then picked up a treat to inspect. Unhappy with it, she put it back.

 _…_ _That. Is gross._ But what did Gintoki care? Those people were probably just as gross as they were, and if he really wanted to think about it, there were germs _everywhere._ He probably ate the same amount of germs in his store-bought snacks as the food he was about to eat now, if not more germs.

It's fine. He's not a germaphobe anyway.

Gintoki loaded his plate anyway, shoving the thought of germs out of his head, and returned to the table.

Kagura was already chowing down, shoving meat into her mouth as fast as she could, like Gintoki hadn't actually fed her that day or something. Shinpachi was trying to mother her, trying to tell her to slow down, but ultimately he gave up and started to chow down too.

Shinpachi suddenly glanced up to Gintoki. “We did a good job on that roof, today.” He said, which was as close to _you did a good job today_ as Shinpachi would get right now. He was smiling as he dug back into his own pile of meat, a smile that warmed Gintoki on the inside.

“Heh, we got paid well too, for once. _And_ the job didn't turn into a really crazy arc.” Gintoki said around a mouthful of beef. He reached out for his glass of water, picking it up and bringing it just to his mouth. “Oh, the old lady said we might be doing her neighbor's bathroom tomorrow if we have time, something about tile. You might want to brush up on your tile-laying skills.”

Shinpachi grinned, but Gintoki didn't hear what he started to say because he was suddenly hyper-focused on the glass of water in his hand. He stared at it for a moment too long before setting it back down, untouched. And then suddenly, his eyes slid over to his food.

 _You're being dramatic._ Gintoki thought, chopsticks raised. He went for his rice. _It happened once. Just once. It was a mistake._

Suddenly, he wasn't very hungry.

He finished his rice and that was all while the kids went back for more. He stared longingly at the cakes, but he couldn't bring himself to eat them. Kagura stole a bunch of meat off his plate and Gintoki let her. They had an argument over Sadaharu and whether or not he needed to have his balls cut off (he was humping everything right now, _everything_!) and they left with pleasant smiles and warm bellies. But he hadn’t touched the drink.

On the walk home, Shinpachi glanced to him a little nervously. “Gin-san. Are you feeling better?”

“Hmm?” Gintoki glanced over to him, expression unreadable.

“We were worried you were sick or something.” Shinpachi said. Kagura elbowed him, stating that she hadn't wanted to be included in the story. “Or, maybe we were too hard on you the other day.”

“Yeah, I feel good.” Gintoki said. He smiled. These kids were so stupid with their pure hearts, it made him melt inside. “Kagura on the other hand, might not be feeling so well in a bit. You know your stomach can explode, right? You know if you eat too much food your belly will burst open, right?”

“What!” Kagura said, her hand on her belly as she stumbled down the road. “I didn't overeat! I mean, not too much!”

“Was it expensive?” Shinpachi asked. “At least Kagura ate our money's worth, right?”

“Yeah.” Gintoki said. He genuinely laughed because he hadn't even paid the bill. What did they expect of him? “It was too expensive though, so we probably shouldn't go back for a while.”

Both kids glanced over to him, both kids with suspicion in their eyes. They probably knew he didn't pay the bill, but thankfully, they also knew better than to ask.

“Next time, we'll go for hot pot.” Gintoki said, carrying the conversation so he couldn't be called out for his underhanded move. “Or we can have it at home. That might be cheaper. We'll invite the old lady and your sister, call it a party.”

“Hot pot!” Kagura yelled, jumping over to him. She almost hit him with her umbrella. Almost. “Can I invite the Princess! If I can invite the Princess, you can invite the Shinsengumi dog!”

“What?” Gintoki asked. “Why would I want to invite _him?_ ”

“We could get Zura over too! And Kondou!” Shinpachi said, before stuttering. “Well, or not. Not with the police over. Just Kondou then?”

“We could just go to the barracks!” Kagura said. “Free buffet!”

“That's not a free buffet!” Shinpachi said. He sounded worried. “And then you'd have to put up with Sougo!”

“Nuh uh!” Kagura said. “Sougo actually behaves when Gin-chan's around.”

At that, Gintoki side glanced her, his gaze cutting through the air like a blade. He saw Shinpachi shiver and quickly look away, but Kagura was just giggling, strolling along like she hadn't said anything concerning. Gintoki wasn't sure if he was just sensitive these last couple of days, dangerously protective, but he knew he didn't have to get so intense over it.

“What do you mean?” Gintoki asked, his voice light despite the danger.

“Ah hahaha, I'm going to puke!” Kagura suddenly said, laughing as she turned away from them. She did. She threw up everywhere, and with his hand on her back, Gintoki stored the information away for later.

He carried Kagura home on his back, a pleasant smile on his face while Shinpachi scolded her for eating so recklessly. She was garbling about regrets, complaining about having too many sweets when Gintoki pushed his front door open. But he started laughing when they entered the main room just to catch Sadaharu rubbing himself against the couch. What was it? Mating season?

He was bouncing back. Another couple of days and he would be back to normal.


	4. At Least Check Isn't Checkmate

“Hijikata!” Sougo said, throwing open Hijikata's door at the crack of dawn. “Get up. You should really see this.”

God, why was that guy awake already? And what was this, barging in here without even trying to murder him? Groaning, Hijikata sat up from beneath his mound of blankets, rubbing at his eyes. This was worse than yesterday. Yesterday, he had been at least out of bed when Yamazaki had brought the chaos to him. Today, Sougo was waking him right up with it, and Hijikata had only been in bed for a few hours! He needed naps! And mayonnaise!

Sougo entered the room faster than Hijikata had expected, eagerly shoving a fancy new touch-screen phone into Hijikata's face.

“What are you doing in here? What is this?” Hijikata asked, taking the phone from him. He rubbed an eye, glowering. “Why couldn't this wait?”

"Just look at it.” Sougo said. He sounded excited. Suspiciously excited.

Alarmed and morbidly curious, Hijikata looked. He glanced to the screen, tapped it once because it was starting to dim, and blinked. Not quite registering what he was seeing, he looked again, scrolling through the photos, taking a second closer look. And then a third.

“Gee, Hijikata. Didn't think you'd like them that much. They were posted late last night.” Sougo said, hand out for his phone back. “Looks like someone barked up the wrong tree.”

“That's not how the saying is used.” Hijikata muttered.

But Hijikata was finally realizing what he was seeing. What was happening. There were six photos, all of them with what looked like Katsura Kotarou on his back, hands on the headboard above him. His legs were locked low around the hips of a massive Amanto with leopard patterned fur, face turned away for one photo, a profile on another. He was arching back with what had probably been a pleased moan in the third picture. And the fourth, his face was to the camera, eyes closed and mouth slightly open in a sigh. It was him, it was definitely him, but he looked younger, smaller. He also looked pleasantly content.

Someone had taken these. Someone had found them. And someone had posted them online.

 _No way._ _They have to be fake. Katsura? And an Amanto? No way..._

“Is it actually him?” Hijikata asked, finally tearing his eyes away and handing the phone back. “Or is it just another one of those photoshop photos? Like the one with the gorilla in the zoo?”

“That was a real photo, Hijikata. He was hiding out with the gorilla to escape from us and everyone noticed except for us.” Sougo said. “And we haven't confirmed yet, but we're looking to see who posted these.”

Groaning, Hijikata threw the blankets off of himself. It was five in the morning and he guessed he was getting up. “Find out who posted them. Chances are, by the time we find out, Katsura will too. Maybe he'll make a mistake and we can catch him.”

Sougo blinked, watching Hijikata with those too pleased eyes of his as he got up. “You think he'll go after the poster?”

“Wouldn't you?” Hijikata asked, already knowing the answer. He sighed, a hand to his hair to try and tame it before he left. Yawning, he scratched one leg with his foot before he realized what he was doing. _Some permy bastard is rubbing off on me._

Sougo snorted behind him as he left the room, because yes. Yes, he would go after the poster and yes, he would disembowel them. “Think it has something to do with the bombing?”

“Keep it in mind.” Hijikata said. He had no idea. It was too early and likely, the photos were fake anyway. But with Katsura, anything could be possible. He would just have to figure it out later.

His dramatic morning didn't end there, though. Hijikata figured that would be the most bizarre part of his morning if not his day, but he was terribly wrong. As soon as Hijikata opened the door, Yamazaki was running down the hall to him with that _look_. Preemptively, Hijikata groaned. He remembered what had happened yesterday, and he could only imagine what was happening today. _What is it now?_ _It's only five in the morning!_

“Hijikata, we had a call about suspicious Joui activity two hours ago!” Yamazaki said, out of breath.

_Two hours ago! At three in the morning? What were Joui terrorists doing at three in the morning?_

“There was a group of Joui spotted downtown! The squad that was sent to investigate the situation has confirmed it's Joui! We've made an arrest!”

“An arrest?” Hijikata asked, perking up faster than strictly necessary. “Just one?”

“Just one!” Yamazaki said. “They've started questioning him down at the station already. The usual one.”

Hijikata smiled. “Sougo, go get the car.”

“Riiiiight.” Sougo drawled, rushing past him. He looked a little too excited now, let alone after their interrogation.

Hijikata hummed. Well. One Joui in custody was better than no Joui, right?

 

–

 

“Gin-san.” Shinpachi whispered dramatically from where he was kneeling on the barren bathroom floor. It was stripped of the old tile that had once been, the new tile half placed. His glasses were glinting ominously, his hand up by his mouth to shield his whispers. “You need to stop breaking the tiles or we're going to get in trouble!”

“I'm trying!” Gintoki loud whispered, placing a hand up by his mouth too. “They just! Crumble beneath my hands like my resolve not to buy JUMP!”

“You need to be gentle with them like a Golden Retriever carrying an egg on rice.” Kagura said really loud, picking up a tile with both hands none too gently. She thwacked it against the floor, setting it into the mud, shifting it towards the little plastic spacer none too gently. She was equally good and horrible at this, was getting more done but making a huge ass mess in the process.

Tile laying wasn't their thing.

“Egg on rice? You mean a Golden Retriever carrying just an egg?” Shinpachi asked. “They can't carry egg on rice, it would never fit in their mouths with the bowl! That would just be a Golden Retriever eating egg on rice!”

“Egg on rice fits in Sadaharu's! He can carry it gently!”

“Sadaharu isn't a Golden Retriever! He's not even from our planet!”

Gintoki placed the next tile ever so gently against the mud. He pressed it into the spacer, the corner just touching it delicately. His fingers were gentle like he was handling a melting parfait.

The tile cracked the moment it touched the spacer. A pained noise squealed out of Gintoki's throat like a little girl shrieking when a boy looked up her skirt. “That's it! I can't take this anymore! Why do they keep breaking! I'm being as gentle as I can and they won't love me back!”

“Because you're not treating them right.” Kagura said. “You can't be too gentle with them or they'll think you're insulting them. You need to man up, but don't be abusive.”

“Oh? Should Gin-san man-handle them, then? Are the tiles secretly masochists?” Gintoki asked. He grabbed another tile and then aggressively pressed it beside the other twelve broken ones. The new tile cracked beneath the gentle pressure, a fissure forming straight down the center. Groaning, Gintoki tried another one and then quit when it too cracked. Fourteen tiles. Gone. Just like that.

He flopped back away from the mess they had made, leaning back against his hands, staring up at the ceiling. “What have I done to deserve hands like these? Are they not enough for you, tile-sama? Am I not enough?”

“Gin-san, I think you're going to have to go and buy another box.” Shinpachi whispered. He glanced over, eyeing the full row of broken tiles. “What's amazing is that you're not even drunk. You're just careless? But I've been watching you, and you're not even mistreating them. How are you doing it?”

“Gin-chan is trying his best!” Gintoki moaned, standing up. He brushed himself off, his trademark outfit worn confidently for the first time in days. He felt pretty great. He just needed to keep busy. “Alright. You two hide the evidence and carry on. I'll go woo some more yen out of the homeowner, and go get another box.”

“Make sure it's the Green Polished Onyx Heathen colour.” Kagura said. “Otherwise, it won't match and then we're going to have to paint it so the owner doesn't know you screwed up.”

“You can't paint a tile!” Shinpachi said. “We'd never get away with it!”

“Hey, hey, calm down. Just leave the tile shopping to me. I will fight the other DIY men at the hardware store for the last box if I had too.” Gintoki said with a grin. He strode out of the bathroom and into the hall, calling out for the owner of the house.

After blaming the tile breaks on the store and promising them hell and retribution (but yen just in case he didn't get a free box after complaining), Gintoki got enough money to go and fix the problem. The homeowner was just a sweet old lady, so she didn't really mind as long as the job got done. _And_ , Gintoki got to take a walk.

“Don't stop. At all. Anywhere.” Shinpachi warned, his arms crossed over his chest. “Don't get distracted by Pachinko. We're relying on you.”

“And don't listen to your nose when you smell drinks.” Kagura said. “Stay sober or I'll have to beat you sober.”

 _Don't worry kids, those days are behind me._ Gintoki shrugged, turning away from the lectures. “I'll be fine. I'm an adult, after all.”

“Hardly.” Shinpachi said.

“Then why am I your mother?” Kagura asked.

Gintoki chuckled, waving over his shoulder as he headed out the front door. With his arm lazily in his yukata, he set out for the hardware store at a leisurely pace. It was only a bit chilly for the early afternoon. The colder weather had really been slacking lately, the sun still warm even though the breeze had turned a bit bitter. They would get snow soon. Probably. _Kagura loves the snow._

It wouldn't do him or the kids any good if he rushed – that just meant he would be back soon enough to break more tiles. And he rather enjoyed just strolling by himself, thinking about the way things had been going the past couple of days. He had woken up feeling better than he had in a while, though he had noticed his craving for a drink had sprung up. He wondered if he should indulge it, or finally try to quit. _The silver lining, hey?_

Lost in thought, Gintoki continued on down the sidewalk with his head in the clouds. He felt so energetic, so good that day, it could have been a new arc. It was like nothing bad had happened to him earlier in the week. Really, it had started when Hijikata had come by to talk to him, but Gintoki wasn't going to delve into the specifics of his good mood. _I'm a lazy protagonist. I can't_ _be specific or the fans will be upset._

But with good things came the bad, lurking around the corner.

They tried to nab him from the alley. Suddenly, a bulky man had appeared beside him on the sidewalk, knocking him discreetly into the alley with his massive shoulder. Gintoki stumbled, hand going for his replacement sword, eyes shooting up to the massive man that had just shoved him. He didn't get his sword in time.

Three armed lackeys grabbed him, one man for each arm before he could draw, and one wrapped an arm around his neck. They caught him off guard, the pack getting their hands on him, getting him further into the alley in a blink of an eye.

The arm wrapped around his throat was restricting his breathing, a cloth over his mouth as he was dragged quietly away. Their hands were clenched painfully tight against his arms, clearly aiming to knock him out quickly before he could make an escape. The sheer amount of bodies touching him and holding him was enough to send his senses into overdrive.

Gintoki held his breath. Eyes wide open, he clenched his jaw and jerked towards the left. He threw his head back then when the men were all off balance, smashing the man behind him with the crown of his skull. A sickening crack sounded when the man's nose broke. He let Gintoki go with a squeal, but the other three were already on him and the cloth simply changed hands without giving him a chance to breathe.

Gintoki gasped when they shoved him back into the wall, his throat burning from the chemicals saturated into the cloth. He forced his body to go slack and threw himself to the side, letting all one hundred and fifty-some pounds of muscles turn to dead weight so he would drop to the ground. The three men went crashing down with him after their futile attempt to keep him up, the forth stumbling away with his bloody nose.

One of them had dropped the cloth. Gintoki finally panted, twisting so he landed on his hands and knees, air burning his lungs as he took a quick moment to breathe. What he had inhaled hadn't been enough to knock him out, but he was already feeling the effects. He felt sick, stomach roiling and muscles protesting.

There were no hands on him.

His head was fuzzy as he scrambled to his feet, his breath coming out in harsh pants. His wooden sword was finally drawn before he could get up, wood cracking against ribs as one armed man tried to rush him.

It was a flurry after that. His sword struck all of them down before he even realized he was acting on pure adrenaline and instinct. He fled the moment he had the chance, emerging from the alley back onto the street, disappearing into the crowd. He stumbled down the road as if he were drunk, the sidewalk spinning and the pedestrians doubling, trying to clear his murky thoughts to make sure he could get somewhere safe before the adrenaline faded.

He wasn't sure what happened after that.

 

–

 

Katsura stood outside of Nakamura's office. Again. Staring at the door handle like it was going to electrocute him the moment he touched it – which honestly, might not be too bad. _Elizabeth knows what to do if I don't come back._ It was unfortunate that Katsura had resorted to precautionary measures.

Nakamura's bald-dude friend had bumped into him on the street again, shoving another fancy white envelope into his hand before carrying on. Katsura had only opened the letter so he could place explosive powder inside, planning to make good on his threat from earlier. _If your bald door-man bumps into me on the street again and hands me_ _a_ _fancy card, I will burn it and this shop down._

That was when the photo of _Gintoki_ had spilled out, the date and time written on the back of the picture in Nakamura's neat scrawl.

So here he was, just before dark. The letter was still intact in his sleeve and the shop hadn't been burned to the ground yet. He was already in the hallway, already at the door, and yet he was hesitating. He had never felt so personally threatened before. This wasn't like facing death. He was facing ruin.

 _Just remain light and snarky. It's okay, it'll be fine._ Katsura had a feeling this was going to be it. That this photo in his pocket, the one of Gintoki lying dazed and confused on his side, clearly drugged and not home where he should be, was going to bend Katsura to his knees. Nakamura had come into this with a full supply of blackmail to get what he wanted, and Katsura was struggling to keep up with passive-aggressive retaliations.

He lifted his chin and opened the door, stalking in like he hadn’t been standing outside for several minutes having a minor freak-out. _It isn't a minor freak-out, it's Katsura._

“ _Katsura_.”

Oh ho, Katsura was already starting to like that tone. That irritated 'I'm not getting what I want' tone. It brought a smile to his lips as he approached the man at his desk, Nakamura pausing from furiously typing something out on his computer. He looked mad, which was very pleasing. Katsura found he liked that look. He could think of a few other expressions he would like to see on Nakamura's face instead.

“Nakamura.” Katsura said simply, that smile still on his lips. “You asked for my presence?”

Nakamura looked livid for a second before he reigned himself in. Unfortunately for him, Katsura's poker face was game ready, and he wouldn't cry over these unfortunate circumstances until he was completely alone. If Nakamura wanted an emotional response that wasn't pure sass, he was going to be disappointed.

“You have some nerve, I'll give you that. I'm glad I came into this as dramatically as I did. Turns out I really did need Gintoki as leverage.” Nakamura said, calming himself. He glanced back to his computer for a moment, closing out from his programs before turning his full attention back to Katsura. He flopped back in his chair, fingers pyramiding together. “Katsura. This war of ours ends now. I want to discuss the Joui with you, and I want you to truly understand your position right now. You will drop this attitude with me. When I punish you, you will stop retaliating.”

“Oh?” Katsura asked. He arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Nakamura shifted, hands lowering beneath the table for a moment to grab what must have been resting right at his side, just _waiting_ for Katsura's arrival. Katsura's gaze flicked down, suddenly nervous. _What is this?_

Nakamura picked up a wooden sword, tossing it onto the desk between them. _Lake Toya_ was engraved across the grip, the wooden blade well used but also cared for.

“Gintoki will remain in my care until I am satisfied with your submission. And by submission, I mean you _will_ submit to me. _Now_.” His voice rung out again with that confident tone Katsura hated. He even had the audacity to smile, rocking in his stupid leather chair. “From here on out, you are not getting another second chance. For each time you defy me, Gintoki will be drugged and used. And if he stops being useful to me, I will have you personally pick a kid. Do you understand? Gintoki has a lot of special people I can hurt. You can't protect them all, and you certainly haven't been able to protect _him_.”

Ah. This again. Katsura glanced over the wooden sword, his stomach churning painfully. He knew Gintoki never went anywhere without that sword but he also knew how easy it was to order one of them online. Katsura didn't think he was bluffing. There was that photo from earlier, too. Katsura had no way to know if it was new or old. _He grabbed Gintoki so easily in the first place, I would be stupid to doubt he did it again._

“I asked you a question.”

Katsura glanced up to him, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. “I understand.” He said, because it was true. He understood exactly what Nakamura was saying, he just didn't know if he believed it. He wasn't sure what he should do, the fact of the matter aside. _Do I risk just killing him? I've tried to organize protection already for the kids but it's hard when his men are_ _nipping_ _at my ankles all the time. He's moving so fast to subdue me, he knows I'm a threat and this is his chance to catch me off guard. If he waits too long, he knows I'll get the upper hand. It's only been a week._

“So then you understand how important your choices are from here on out?” Nakamura asked. He didn't wait for an answer. “Well?”

“Of course.” Katsura said. He smiled, a burning sensation in his chest.

Nakamura hummed, eyes narrowed. “Put your sword on my desk.”

Katsura raised an eyebrow but didn't move. He simply let that gentle smile turn into a smirk

“Don't make me repeat myself.”

“What do you want from me?” Katsura asked. “Besides the Joui?”

“Your complete loyalty. To lick my boots if I ask. To go die in a hole somewhere out of the way, after. You've grown too soft, Katsura. You've outlived your usefulness. Japan will not be revolutionized with a man like you trying to change it.” Nakamura said. His eyes sparkled. “Now. The sword.”

“No.”

“That's one strike for Gintoki then.” Nakamura said, and the grin on his face was downright sadistic. “Want to make it two?”

Katsura's lip twitched, but he did not respond.

“Two.” Nakamura said. He suddenly grabbed his phone off his desk, quickly composing a text message, talking as he went. “I've been feeling rather short with you lately. I know I told you I was going to take this slow, and I mean it. I do plan to put in the effort to win over your men one at a time until they will follow me without question, but for you? I'm going to kill your stubbornness now, Katsura. There is no place for it anymore. I need you to cooperate, and you _will_.”

“If that's all you have to say, again, then I will be on my way.” Katsura said. “There is no place for your attitude here either. You're going to get yourself into trouble, if not killed.”

“Nah, nah, not too fast. I want you to really see the consequences of defying me.” Nakamura said. His phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced to the message before turning back to his computer, hand on the mouse and flying over the keyboard. “You just don't seem to understand. This isn't a game, Katsura. This is what's going to happen every time you defy me, from now on, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.”

Nakamura spun his computer monitor around. Katsura's eyes flicked to it with disinterest. Until he realized what he was watching.

Katsura's stomach rolled

“Just in case you're confused, this is a live stream. That means it's happening in the now, with maybe a few seconds of lag. And no, I'm not keeping him here in the shop, that would just be silly.” Nakamura said, gesturing towards the image. “Should I turn on the volume? Do you want to hear him?”

It was Gintoki. Spacey and laid out on a futon, the camera on a low table so that everything happening could be seen. He was fully dressed. For now. But two hands were touching him, a man straddling him, pushing his yukata off his shoulder slow and sensually. Gintoki was reaching for those hands weakly, trying to push them away.

Katsura paled.

“Two _rounds_ , no discussion.” Nakamura said. “Now. About that sword. On the table.”

Katsura's remained tense, unmoving as he watched the screen for a few delayed seconds before looking away. _Burning this shop down won't be enough. Killing you won't be enough. Nothing I do will ever make this right for Gintoki._

Ever so slowly, Katsura unfastened the scabbard at his hip. He reached forward just as slowly, placing it down on the desk. It clicked against the wood before Katsura let it sit just before Gintoki's. He leaned back in the chair rigidly, eyes still on the blade.

“Good choice.” Nakamura said. He suddenly gestured with both hands, fingers waving Katsura over. “Now get up and come over here.”

 _Elizabeth. I'm counting on you_ _to do as I asked_ _._ With a dark, bland look, Katsura silently stood up, walking around the desk. He stopped at the corner, wary of what was about to happen. “You're still not winning.” He said, making sure his voice sounded much more confident than he felt. “You will not have the Joui.”

“Should I give Gintoki a third round?” Nakamura hummed, waved him closer. He bared his teeth in a smile when Katsura remained frozen. “I'm just teasing. I have a choice for you to make. Send that stubborn act of yours for a ride.”

Katsura crossed his arms, waiting.

“You can either suck my dick before you bend over my desk for me, or, you can take it dry.” Nakamura said, legs spreading in the chair to give Katsura room, should he choose to drop to his knees. “It's your choice.”

In the background, the stream of Gintoki was still going, a man manipulating Gintoki's prone form. A man touching him, violating him, using him. Katsura's breath was suddenly short, but he tried his best not to let it show. This was worse than he had expected. This was all worse than he had expected. He hadn't realized Nakamura had gotten his hands on Gintoki again. _I didn't even know the first time it happened,_ _why would I know the second_ _?_

“Well?” Nakamura asked, eyebrow raising. “You have five seconds to decide.”

Katsura remained rooted where he stood, eyes on Nakamura and Nakamura only. Everything else around him went fuzzy as Nakamura stood up from his desk chair, a predatory grin on his face. _He's just going to make a statement. It'll happen just once. Only once, and then I will never be in th_ _is_ _position again._

“Hands on the desk.” Nakamura said gently like he cared about Katsura's obvious distress.

Katsura froze. He was rigid, eyes wide on Nakamura as the man waited for him patiently. If he just up and left, laughed in Nakamura's face, would he let Gintoki go? Or would he call him back in twenty-four hours with twenty-four hours of footage? If he killed Nakamura, would he be able to even _find_ Gintoki? _Is that a risk you want to take? And if not Gintoki, his kids? Gintoki would never forgive you. He might never forgive you anyway._

“Katsura.” Nakamura said. He watched intently like he had expected Katsura to flinch at the sound of his voice. He was disappointed when it didn't happen. “Gintoki has gone through this how many times now, just for you? Because you can't listen? You can take one for the team, Katsura. You owe him.”

 _Take one for the team._ If Katsura had eaten, he could have thrown up right then. He hesitated a moment longer before jerkily shifting over to the desk on autopilot. He rested his palms against the warm wood. He let out a long, quiet breath, eyes on his and Gintoki's sword, the video moving in the corner of his eye. Nakamura pressed up behind him. He felt his knees go weak.

“See, this is what I want from you.” Nakamura said quietly, his hand going up to pull Katsura's hair all over one shoulder. “Nice, quiet obedience. It wasn't too hard. Don't think, just do.”

Katsura opened his mouth. Let his defiance ring out firm and stubborn. “Obedience and loyalty aren't the same thing. You'd be wise the learn to differentiate.”

Nakamura's hand tangled up into the hair at the base of Katsura's neck. He jerked Katsura's head back. “You'd be wise to keep your mouth shut.”

“You can't make me.” Katsura said. He really needed to stop talking back, but he couldn't help himself. It was all he could do right now. If he kept his confident image, he might frustrate Nakamura into making mistakes. If he remained stubborn, Nakamura might grow weary and balk from the task.

Nakamura huffed at that. But then he laughed.

This too ended worse than Katsura expected.

 

–

 

“Hijikata.” Sougo drawled, exiting the coffee shop with two steaming lattes. “Yamazaki keeps calling. Have you answered him yet?”

“Did _you_ answer him? You're the one he's calling.” Hijikata said, blowing smoke towards the sky. The moon was bright and full, the stars visible. He had an odd feeling in his gut. Something wasn't right. The Joui they had arrested had been a new recruit, a tearful one at that who hadn't stopped sobbing the whole time. He hadn't known anything besides the location Katsura had used to meet with the newbies _this one time_ , and the man hadn't given any other details. Getting his name out of him had been an hour-long process, and he kept repeating how disappointed he was in himself for getting caught so fast.

In Hijikata's opinion, the man had been caught _too_ fast. And he hadn't seemed like Joui at first, didn't talk or act the way Katsura's men usually did. _And then there were those leaked photos and the bombing? But there hasn't been another bombing since? Maybe it was a one time thing? Maybe I'm just looking too close into this?_

“Hijikata.” Sougo said again, Hijikata's coffee suspended in the air between them. “If you don't take this, I will drop it.”

“Okay. Geez.” Hijikata said. He took the paper cup, quickly finishing off his smoke. “Did you answer Yamazaki? And did you put anything in my drink? Hot sauce?”

“No and no.” Sougo said, taking a sip of his own drink. “It's late. Should we go back? We didn't get anything from the location the Joui sent us to. There are no new leads to Katsura's whereabouts.”

Suddenly, Hijikata's radio crackled at his hip, static coming through.

“Hijikata?” It was Yamazaki. Looks like he went _all_ the way back to the barracks just to get the radio he had forgotten. “Hijikata, you're not answering your phone! Sougo either!”

Hijikata sighed. Closing his eyes to ignore Sougo's shit-eating grin, he picked up his radio. “What is it?”

“There was a complaint at a local park. Um. I'm here.” Yamazaki said. He continued on quickly before Hijikata could yell at him. “So. Odd Jobs is stuck in a tree?”


	5. Honesty Is The Best Policy Unless You Have Something To Hide

“Odd Jobs! Get down here.” Hijikata yelled. “Now!”

Yamazaki and Sougo stood on either side of him, the park dark and void of people. He had his hands on his hips beneath a very tall tree, head craned upwards and smoke clenched between his teeth. Gintoki was only a few branches high, no more than fifteen feet off the ground, leaning against the trunk. In a _tree_ of all places. He had been shielded by branches of brown dying leaves, Hijikata having to stand almost directly underneath him in order to catch sight of that white yukata. In worry, a woman had called the police earlier. Her dog had started barking at _'the hobo in the tree'_ when he had moved, and now here they were. _What the hell is he doing?_

“Boss!” Sougo called, his hands cupped around his mouth. “I heard there's a double chance for pachinko winnings if you have white hair and are a main character!”

Gintoki shifted but otherwise remained rooted where he was.

“What the _hell_.” Hijikata said. He huffed. With his eyes still locked on Gintoki, he shoved his coffee at Yamazaki to his right, who took the paper cup in surprise. A little more aggressively than intended, Hijikata pulled off his uniform jacket and shoved it at Sougo to his left. Sougo cocked an eyebrow, eyes flicking over to watch Hijikata furiously roll up his sleeves.

“You gonna go up and get him?” Sougo asked. He sounded surprised for once, as he slung the jacket over his arm. He was watching Hijikata intently. “Make sure you slip and die.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Hijikata said. What else was he going to do? Call the fire department to get a drunk out of a tree? Tell Gintoki later that he had to waste tax-payers money because the idiot had gotten himself stuck? “What's climbing a tree? I've had to do crazier things for this idiot!”

It was true. Honestly, tree climbing wasn't even that hard, considering some of the situations he and Gintoki had found themselves in. Climbing the tree was the least dangerous thing he would be doing. If Gintoki could get himself up there drunk like he probably was, then Hijikata could climb it sober. He could also get them both down.

But on his way up the stupid tree with his fingers freezing, Hijikata couldn't help but wonder what the hell was happening. Why was Gintoki in a tree? In the middle of the night? When it was freezing balls out and there was a warning for snow? Was he really that drunk? Or just plain stupid?

“Hey!” Hijikata called as he hoisted himself up onto one of the lower branches, disappearing up past the crown of dead leaves. It was too cold to sleep outside, dammit! Why hadn't Gintoki gone to the hobo park where they had at least constructed themselves cardboard shelters? “Are you awake?”

One more branch and Hijikata's face came into view of Gintoki's thigh. It wasn't the best position to be in – eh, _maybe_ – but it was better than being on the ground trying to yell at him. From here, Hijikata could see him better too. Eyes closed, head tilted to the side like he was passed right out.

“Hey? Perm-head!”

Gintoki didn't really stir. His eyes slit open, bleary red glancing Hijikata's way before closing again. A crease appeared between his eyebrows, mouth pulling into a grimace before his head lolled to the side. He looked tired like he was trying to have a nap but...

That… wasn't normal.

Hijikata's only solace was that the branches supporting both of them was really thick, and when he shifted closer to Gintoki's hip, they both remained safe. With one hand freezing on the branch, Hijikata reached the other out to place it on Gintoki's knee. He gave it a firm squeeze, and then a gentle shake. Gintoki groaned at the contact.

“Hey? Idiot? Are you okay?”

Gintoki sighed in response. His head lolled back Hijikata's way, eyes struggling to open. He kept them slit, his own hand stretching for Hijikata's on his knee but not quite making it. “… Hijikata?”

“Yeah? Hey?” Hijikata said, suddenly realizing that there was something very, _very_ wrong with this picture. He could feel his stomach go sour, cold fear tingling down the back of his spine. He'd never heard Gintoki's voice sound like this. Never seen him look quite so placid.

“Can you get down? We need to get out of this tree.” Hijikata said. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Gintoki said. His voice was so rough. He turned his face away, eyes closed again. “Not goin'.”

“We have to.” Hijikata said. Leave it to Odd Jobs, to argue at a time like this. “You're going to freeze up here. And then what? China Girl's going to kick my ass to the moon, is what. Let's go, Odd Jobs. You have somewhere to be, and it's not here.”

Gintoki hummed, glowering at Hijikata _._ “Yeah?” He asked. It was odd, his voice was clear, no traces of slurring. But his sentences were short. Clipped. Tired. “M'kay.”

“Yeah.” Hijikata said, keeping the suspicion out of his tone. “Come down with me? Can you move?”

The fact of the matter was: Gintoki _couldn't_ really move, but he did it anyway. Getting Gintoki out of the tree was dangerous for both of them and required a lot of help on Gintoki's part. They almost fell to their deaths more than once, but Hijikata managed to keep them both from falling to their doom. Gintoki could hardly stand, let alone climb down. There were warning signs flashing everywhere, and Hijikata's labored breath as he hit the solid ground again wasn't just from the exertion

The second Gintoki's feet touched the frozen earth, he sagged tiredly. Hijikata wrapped and arm around him before he could topple, letting Gintoki lean against him for support. At Gintoki's other side, Sougo had appeared in a second, hands out like he had expected Gintoki to fall. Hijikata wasn't sure what Sougo had seen, but the first commander looked a little pale all of a sudden.

“Is he okay?” Yamazaki asked, rushing over. “Should I go get the car and bring it closer? I parked down the block because there were no parking spaces available and-”

“Bring the car.” Hijikata said. “Sougo, help me move him to that bench for now.”

“Right.” Sougo said.

Sougo ducked underneath Gintoki's arm, one hand on Odd Jobs' forearm, the other gripping the yukata at his waist. Hijikata didn't waste any time taking up Gintoki's other side. Gintoki was having trouble keeping himself up, but this close, Hijikata couldn't smell any alcohol on his breath. There was something odd about it all.

One foot away from the bench, Gintoki dug his heels in and refused to go any further. He even went as far as to put a boot up against the bench keep him from moving any closer.

“Hey, come sit down for a second.” Hijikata said, trying to pull Gintoki closer. “Just until Yamazaki brings the car closer. We can't carry you all the way there, you're heavy you idiot.”

Gintoki murmured something, something that sounded like a very stubborn _no._

“Gintoki, come sit.” Hijikata said, trying to pull him closer to the bench. Sougo tried to push him, but Gintoki remained stubbornly rooted where he stood.

Gintoki groaned, pulling away, rocking into Sougo. “Don't wanna.”

“Well it sucks to be you.” Hijikata said. “Come sit. Sougo, let him fall. Go get him some water or something.”

Sougo chuckled before letting Gintoki completely go, giving him a nice gentle shove just so he would fall straight forward into Hijikata. Gintoki stumbled face first into Hijikata's chest, Hijikata grunting and doing his best to safely drop them both on the nearby bench. Gintoki was half in his lap, half leaning against the back of the bench, one hand out to support himself and the other on his forehead.

“Don't wanna...” Gintoki groaned, eyes pinched closed and hand covering half of his face. “… wake up here again...”

“You're not going to wake up here.” Hijikata said, trying to rearrange their limbs so that Gintoki was sitting on his own side of the bench and _not_ half over him. It was… pleasantly awkward, meaning it was completely awkward and Hijikata didn't want to deal with that. “Why would you wake up here?” He suddenly paused, eyes narrowed at Gintoki in scrutiny. “ _Again_?”

“Again.” Gintoki said. He leaned over, forehead touching the back of the bench. “Don't leave me here.”

“I'm not.” Hijikata said. Concern finally hit him. “What happened to you? Did you take something?” _Some sort of weird Amanto drug, maybe? Is that what this is? A bad case of drinking and drugs? Is this what you do these days?_

“No.” Gintoki said.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Hijikata asked. He reached out, hand on Gintoki's forearm.

Gintoki pulled away, sat back up on the bench looking a little more alert than the moment before. “Yeah.” He said. But he didn't tell Hijikata a thing.

Hijikata was going to press it when Sougo came back with a bottle of water. Gintoki groaned, twisting away and leaning both arms against the back of the bench like he didn't even want to look at Sougo. He put his forehead back to where it had been, his knee shifting a hair width from Hijikata's.

“Is he okay?” Sougo asked. He unscrewed the cap, handing it over to Hijikata. It was odd, hearing the first captain sound so concerned. It was genuine, too.

“Beats me.” Hijikata said, turning back to Gintoki. With his other hand to his shoulder, he shook him, startling him out of dozing. “Here. Drink something so you can tell me what happened.”

Gintoki simply glanced at the water bottle before he shook his head, shifting way again. His eyes were half open, locked on the bottle. He leaned further away, almost falling over.

“Shit.” Gintoki said. “Nu-uh.”

“Boss?” Sougo asked. “You good?”

“Yeah.” Gintoki said.

“Gintoki.” Hijikata said because he wasn't good. “Seriously. Do you need to go to the hospital? Is there something wrong? Are you injured? Bleeding?”

“No.” Gintoki said. His eyes were closed again, hand to his face. “No, not injured.”

“Did you drink anything? I mean alcohol?” Sougo asked.

“No.” Gintoki said.

“Did you take anything? Ingest anything? Funny little pills, maybe?” Hijikata asked.

“No.” Gintoki said. He glanced to Hijikata, but it was too dark to judge his pupils. “Nu-uh.”

“Are you suddenly diabetic? Do you need something sweet?” Sougo asked. “A parfait maybe?”

“No.” Gintoki said.

 _Did he just deny a free parfait?_ Hijikata's eyes widened, roaming over every inch of Gintoki. He looked fine, no cuts visible or any signs of a fight. His clothes were a little dirty, but given he had climbed a tree... Hijikata's hand accidentally tightened on Gintoki's forearm. _What happened to you? What_ _'s_ _wrong?_

Hijikata's radio suddenly crackled to life, Yamazaki's voice loud and clear. “Okay, I'm right at the entrance. I can see you guys.”

Hijikata glanced back over the bench to the police cruiser and sighed. He handed the untouched water bottle back to Sougo, giving Gintoki a gentle shake. He stood up, bringing Gintoki's arms up with him by his wrists. “Okay. Let's go home, Odd Jobs.”

Gintoki only nodded his head.

 

–

 

They ended up taking him back to the barracks. During the car ride, Hijikata had started to worry excessively, watching the way Gintoki was struggling to keep himself awake. He still had a hand to his head with his eyes closed, still refusing to drink the water despite his obvious headache. His responses to Hijikata's basic questions were slow, but they were coherent. They were also concerningly honest. He was rational at least, understanding what was being asked and what he wanted to say. But he was just… struggling.

Something wasn't right.

In Hijikata's room, Gintoki refused to sit down at first. He still had that hand to his head, his eyes closed and a crease in his forehead from pain. He had backed himself into the corner of the room, leaning against the wall on his own two feet by sheer will power alone. Hijikata couldn't make heads or tails of it.

He pulled out his futon so Gintoki could lay down, fluffed it onto the floor, eyes trying not to stray to Gintoki in worry every few seconds. He was standing, yes. But hardly. Looked a little too pale, or was Hijikata just looking too close now?

“Headache?” Hijikata asked, pausing for a moment.

“Yeah.” Gintoki said. He mumbled after, possibly a joke, but Hijikata didn't catch it.

“Come sit.” Hijikata said, patting his futon. He hadn't pulled out any blankets yet, but getting Gintoki just to sit was half the battle right now. “I'll get you some pain killers after.”

“Don't wanna.”

“Why not?” Hijikata finally asked, eyebrow twitching. “That's all you've been saying all night. You _don't want to_. What happened?”

Gintoki groaned, waving his hand dismissively. “'s fine.”

Huffing, Hijikata stood up. He walked over to Gintoki, hands gently going to the other man's forearms. This close, Gintoki looked dead on his feet. His eyes were hardly open, his skin pasty. He let Hijikata take his forearms in hand. “Listen. You're going to fall over. Just come sit. You trust me, right?”

Gintoki hummed in agreement, eyes finally focusing on Hijikata. “Suppose.”

 _What's that supposed to mean?_ Hijikata wanted to ask, lip twitching. But he didn't. He was currently fixated on the fact that Gintoki's pupils were blown wide. “Come sit.”

Gintoki went with him, albeit, after some coaxing. He settled down a little more rough than Hijikata had expected, practically falling onto the futon. He groaned, hand still to his head, eyes closed again as he settled cross-legged. “Migraine.”

“From what?” Hijikata asked. He sat in front of him, reaching up to pry Gintoki's hand from his face so he could check to see how warm he was. Hijikata had no idea how long Gintoki had been out there, what had put him into such a vulnerable state. He could be running a fever for all he knew.

He pressed the back of his hand to Gintoki's forehead but he didn't feel warm at all. No fever then. That was good.

“Hey?” Hijikata asked, realizing that Gintoki had remained silent, eyes oddly focused on Hijikata's face. He hesitated, momentarily feeling bad for trying to take advantage of Gintoki's peculiar state, but Hijikata _could argue_ that these were important questions he was about to ask. “Why did you climb the tree?”

“Hiding.” Gintoki said automatically. “Like the war.”

 _The war?_ “Hiding from what?” Hijikata asked. He placed his hand on Gintoki's shoulder, ignoring the fact that they had somehow gotten closer, knees brushing knees. Gintoki didn't pull away.

“Them.” Gintoki said. He sighed, hand going to his forehead again.

It looked like he was closing off, but Hijikata pressed forward anyway. “Who?” Hijikata tried.

Gintoki shrugged.

Hijikata huffed. Tried a different approach to the same question. “What gave you a migraine?”

“The cloth.” Gintoki said. He abruptly shifted away. “'m laying down.”

And he did. He flopped right over onto his side on the futon, eyes shut and hand still to his forehead. Groaning, Hijikata got up, rushing over to his closet to get the idiot a blanket and a pillow. His thoughts were turning over and over as he dug them out. _The cloth? The cloth gave him a migraine?_

When he returned, Gintoki was already sleeping, hand fallen from his forehead, mouth slightly open. He was curled into himself, the exhaustion plain as day. _He said he didn't take anything, but he's obviously on something._

“You idiot.” Hijikata said. He dropped down beside his head, pushing the pillow under him so he didn't wake up with a stiff neck. He took a moment to look over Gintoki's face again. “What happened to you?”

He reached forward, blanket on his lap, tugging at the shoulder of Gintoki's yukata. Sighing, Hijikata leaned forward on his knees, pulling the yukata from his shoulder. With a hand to Odd Jobs' chest, Hijikata pushed him over onto his back, undoing the belts and the tie to get the yukata off. What an idiot. Hijikata's seen Gintoki nap in this outfit before, but he doubts it's comfortable.

With minor difficulty, Hijikata pulled the yukata out from beneath him and simply tossed it aside for now. He threw the blanket over him after, eyes on Gintoki's face. He didn't look hurt. Minus the slight drunk stagger, he had been walking fine. Talking fine. The only complaints had been from his head.

Hijikata knew what he was looking at, but at the same time, he didn't.

Absently, Hijikata moved over to his desk to start working on his paperwork, not sure what else he was supposed to do with Gintoki passed out right next to him. After the week he's had, he honestly couldn't say he was surprised to drag Gintoki out of a tree. First the bomb, then Katsura's leaked photos. Now Gintoki? _What's in store for me tomorrow?_

As soon as he put the stack of paperwork on his desk, Hijikata suddenly remembered one week ago, when Gintoki disappeared without a trace. Remembered the kids complaining about Gintoki getting drunk and disappearing without a word. About the bandages that Hijikata had seen the last time they'd been together.

Abandoning his paperwork, Hijikata stood up. He would at least call the Shimura's to let them know Gintoki wasn't missing again. That he was accounted for and, in the loosest sense of the term, safe. Maybe he could gleam some information from Shinpachi while he was at it, find out when and where Gintoki had disappeared from the kids if they had even been with him at all.

Something wasn't right. And when Hijikata finally sat down to look over his work, he got the feeling Gintoki was only a piece to the larger puzzle.

 

–

 

Hijikata woke up several hours later, jerking up from where he had fallen asleep on his desk. The paper he had been working on was sticking to his face, fresh ink certainly stained into his cheek. Confused for a moment, he recalled making a phone call that left him frustrated and without much to go on. _He disappeared sometime after three,_ Shinpachi had said. Hijikata had mulled it over for quite some time, what could have happened in the six hours between disappearing and being found. Hijikata had then returned to do his paperwork. And apparently, he had passed right out.

_Oh right! Gintoki._

He instantly glanced to his futon, an odd wave of panic quelled by Gintoki's sleeping form, like he had expected Gintoki to get up and disappear halfway through the night.

He took a moment to take a deep breath, prying the paper from his cheek. Yep. There was definitely going to be ink on his face. But that was a minor detail right now. In his sleep, Gintoki had rolled over so that his back was facing Hijikata. He was deathly still, quiet in what must have been the wee hours of the morning. For some reason, it made Hijikata's chest constrict.

Hijikata rubbed at his cheek. He sighed, standing up from his table, body a little crimped and stiff from falling asleep in such an awkward position. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and he knew it wouldn't be the last, but it was irritating none the less.

He left his room, quickly rushing through a half-assed morning routine. He relieved himself, washed the ink from his face. He stopped for coffee in the mess hall, poured in some extra mayonnaise for the stress levels. He made an extra cup of green tea just in case Gintoki woke up soon, and then returned to his bedroom a little faster than what he would consider normal.

Gintoki was still passed out. Hijikata set the drinks down on his low coffee table before going over to check the man out – in many senses of the word. Hijikata knelt down beside him, reaching one hand out to brush his hair back from his face. His hair was greasy, bangs gross, but the temperature of his skin felt fine.

Gintoki didn't stir when Hijikata pressed a hand to him. He was oddly dead asleep, his breath soft and even. He was curled into himself and the blanket, tangled up in it. Hijikata didn't have anything to compare it to, but it was oddly endearing, seeing Gintoki so comfortable. Hijikata wasn't sure he had ever seen Odd Jobs so relaxed. _Now that I think about it, he was really_ _calm about everything_ _last night too, wasn't he?_ _But why would someone try to drug him? He must have taken something…?_

“Being creepy, Hijikata?” Sougo asked from the doorway all of a sudden.

Hijikata jumped, glancing up to him like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, eyes narrowed. Sougo was grinning like a mad man, his eyes glinting dangerously. Shockingly, he didn't have his sword drawn for once or a bazooka present. Maybe he wasn't going to attempt a murder this morning.

“W-what? No. What are you doing here?” _Oh god, he has some more bad news, doesn't he?_ _It's just never ending this week..._ “Are there updates? Joui updates? The Odd Job kids are in trees too?”

Sougo chuckled. “Nope. Just came by to let you know that there was absolutely no reported Joui activity last night. None.”

“None?” Hijikata asked. That… was good. But _very_ suspicious. “None at all?”

“That's what I said.” Sougo said. He glanced over to Gintoki, eyes suddenly losing their murderous gleam. “How's he doing?”

“Passed out still.” Hijikata said, glancing to Gintoki too. “He slept like a rock.”

Sougo stared. Hesitated before speaking. “Think he was on drugs?”

Hijikata didn't respond.

Sougo shrugged, turning away. “I mean, he was pretty agreeable for the most part.”

 _The cloth._ Hijikata narrowed his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder to watch as Sougo left, before standing up to finish his paperwork. He had no idea what had happened, and he wouldn't know until Gintoki woke up. He might not even know afterward. All he knew for sure was that Gintoki had been found in a tree, and he had been up there because he hadn't felt safe.

“Hope you're not caught up in something stupid.” Hijikata murmured as he settled down at his desk. But deep down, he knew. For someone like Gintoki, staying out of trouble was borderline impossible.

 

–

 

Hijikata was on his way back from lunch with a throbbing headache and a plate full of food. He intended to wake up Gintoki the moment he got back, but, alas, Yamazaki of all people had run into him on his way there. With his pace slower than he wanted it to be, Hijikata sighed, waiting for the dramatic scoop.

“I'm sure you already know, but there was… uhh... no Joui activity last night! Ish!” Yamazaki reported with way more enthusiasm than what was required. “Also, I asked around this morning at the park and the nearby shops, and it sounds like Gintoki was seen last night on his way there, around four o'clock. To the park and the tree, I mean. One of the shop owners recognized him because Odd Jobs owes him money. Said he was 'stumbling around like a drunk'.”

“Is that so?” Hijikata asked. They both knew Gintoki hadn't been drunk. Hijikata huffed, finger suddenly twitching for a cigarette. So he had been seen on his way to the park? So what?

“Also, there was no Joui activity reported,” Yamazaki said.

“I _know._ ” Hijikata said. “I've heard it five times today already. No Joui activity. I got it.”

“But Katsura was spotted.” Yamazaki said. “Or. Uh. I spotted him, really.”

Hijikata stopped in his tracks, eyes narrowed as he turned towards him. “You _what_?”

Yamazaki chuckled, suddenly glancing away. “I… might have taken it upon myself to drop by Odd Jobs, to see if I could find out when Gintoki left yesterday. Tama reported that Gintoki and the kids left around noon to go do a job, and none of them came back.”

“I didn't ask you to do that.” Hijikata said, turning away to continue walking. “And what does that have to do with Katsura?”

“Oh, well, he was there.” Yamazaki said. “Well, not _there_ there, but he was nearby. Had a real intense aura to him this time, like your aura when Sougo tampers with your mayo. He was watching Odd Jobs and the shop from across the street. He left as soon as I spotted him.”

“And you didn't think to follow him?” Hijikata asked, stopping outside his bedroom door.

“He disappeared.” Yamazaki said. “I tried to tail him, but...”

Hijikata clicked his tongue, shoving his door open. Yamazaki sure was one of a kind “You did good work.”

He slammed the door before Yamazaki could respond. He trudged over to Gintoki, taking his foot and shoving it into the man's shoulder, giving him a good shake.

“Yo, Odd Jobs. Wake up.” He nudged him repeatedly with his foot until Gintoki groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, arms clutching the pillow to his chest. He murmured something, low and incoherent. So Hijikata stepped closer and nudged him with his foot again, more insistent this time.

“ _Stop_...” Gintoki groaned. He rolled onto his other side, facing Hijikata, the pillow cuddled to his chest. “Ten more minutes.”

“No.” Hijikata said. He came dangerously close, foot out for Gintoki's face this time. But he hesitated, foot in the air. “You've slept all day. You're going to get up now, you lazy ass. I even brought you food.”

At the mention of food, Gintoki's eyes opened. Unlike the night before, they were clear and focused, fixated on the plate in Hijikata's hands. “Dog food?”

“No, not dog food!” Hijikata scoffed, foot raised again threateningly. “You dumbass, get up and eat something. You're overstaying your welcome.”

He wasn't overstaying his welcome, but Hijikata wasn't going to exactly tell him that. Nu-uh. Especially if Sougo could hear him. There were a lot of things about Gintoki that would probably never leave Hijikata's mouth.

Groaning, Gintoki untangled himself from the blanket, getting himself up to a sitting position. Hijikata walked back over to his desk, setting the plate down. He produced a pair of chopsticks from his pocket, setting those down too a little more aggressively than he had intended.

“Eat.” Hijikata said, tidying up his stack of papers while glancing Gintoki's way. “You've had a long night.”

Gintoki fixed him with one of _those_ looks, before scooting closer to the table and eagerly going for the free meal. “Generous, for a tax thief.” Gintoki said, before proceeding to scarf back everything Hijikata had brought for him.

“I called the Shimura's last night.” Hijikata said, picking out a single paper to focus on for the time being. “I let them know you were with me. Told them I needed you for an emergency job.”

Gintoki paused from scraping the plate clean, eyes glancing up. “You didn't have to do that.”

“Good thing I didn't do it out of the kindness of my heart.” Hijikata lied. He glanced up. “What happened last night?”

Gintoki blinked. Decided now was a good time to go back scraping his plate clean of every last grain of rice. He was avoiding the question. Hijikata could tell he was ten seconds from leaving without saying a single word on the topic.

“I hauled your ass out a tree in dead of night. Do you know how much it snowed last night? Right now, there's a whole foot of it out there.” Hijikata said. “You would have lost your fingers. At best.”

Gintoki didn't respond, fiddling with the plate now even though it was clean like it had gone through a dishwasher.

“What is going on?” Hijikata asked. “With you and Katsura?”

Gintoki glanced up, those obvious dead fish eyes fueling Hijikata's frustration. “Who said anything about that guy?”

“You said something about hiding.” Hijikata said. “You said you were hiding from _them_ like in the war.”

Gintoki's expression remained bland. He set down the plate and chopsticks and sighed. Hijikata thought for a moment he might not respond at all, but he did. He simply shrugged, eyes on Hijikata. “We hid in trees sometimes, strategic retreat or whatever. Pretty useful when you're small and the enemy is not.”

“Who were you hiding from last night?” Hijikata asked.

Gintoki merely stared at him for a brief moment, those dead fish eyes so slack Hijikata could puke, when Gintoki suddenly shoved a finger in his nose. “Eh, I might have scored a free drink or three before finding out they weren't free. You know, those oden stand guys are pretty scary these days. They don't believe in a tab anymore and they'll chase you right down for their yen. You better be careful.”

Hijikata's expression went blank. “You're telling me you were drunk, running away from a bill?”

Gintoki chuckled, eyebrows shooting up. He glanced to the finger that had just come out his nose, inspecting it. “Heh. Yeah, I guess so. I wouldn't say _drunk_ , because I did get up that tree on my own. And it was the afternoon, you can't have one too many. I had a job to do.”

It was so natural. So easy. If Hijikata didn't know any better, he would have believed him. Which made him glower. _How many times has he already lied to me like this?_

“And before that?”

Gintoki flicked the booger away. “Hm, I was helping the kids lay tile.” He said. “Left some time after three to go get more supplies when… I got sidetracked I guess. Are you investigating me? What's with all the questions, Mayora? I think I should call the kids now. Don't I get a free phone call? Am I free to leave or will you have me arrested? Is that what this is? Did something happen that I don't know about?”

“I already called the kids.” Hijikata repeated. His voice was more clipped than he had intended it to be, and Gintoki definitely noticed. “Last night. They know you're here.”

Gintoki nodded. “Thanks-”

“Listen.” Hijikata snapped. “You can lie straight to your kids' faces all you like, but don't think you'll get away lying to mine.”

Gintoki remained frozen where he sat. His eyes only widened a smidge, but Gintoki knew he had been caught. Good.

“Go home.” Hijikata said. He gestured towards the door with his pen, eyes on his paperwork. That fucker. Lying straight to his face. Hijikata's finger twitched, itching for a cigarette. Gintoki was showing _signs,_ but Hijikata couldn't help his anger.

“Hey.” Gintoki said, voice soft.

“No.” Hijikata snapped. He glanced up again, the irritation clear in his tone. “Go. _Home_.”

Gintoki left, a new expression on his face that Hijikata had never seen before.


	6. There Ain't No Rest For The Wicked Or Those Who Continuously Make Bad Decisions

The second Gintoki returned home, all mopey and dejected from Hijikata kicking him out, Kagura was right there in the hallway yelling at him. He had literally just opened the door, his hand still on the damn thing, when she had started screaming. He stepped in with a sigh, not getting very far before her words started to become coherent.

“Gin-chan, it took you long enough! You made Eli wait all day!” Kagura yelled, her sentence ending just in time for Gintoki to actually close the front door. She disappeared then, back into the main room, leaving that door open in her wake. “Don't make Eli wait any longer!”

Gintoki stood still for a second, completely unaware of what had just happened.

“Eli?” He asked, eyebrow quirking. _As in… Elizabeth?_ He hadn't expected that. He had expected for Kagura to yell at him for disappearing again, amongst other things. Had expected Shinpachi to come out and give him that _look._ But Elizabeth and Zura?

Curious, Gintoki kicked off his boots a little quicker than expected and followed Kagura into the main room. Sure enough, sitting on one of his couches was Elizabeth. The duck sat alone, a mug of tea in his hands. There was no sign of the wig-headed weirdo, and that alone was an interesting fact. _He didn't come here with Zura?_ _Should I be concerned?_

Shinpachi was sitting across from Elizabeth with glinting glasses, Kagura jumping onto the couch beside him so heavily that the furniture groaned. The kids glanced up to him expectantly, ushering him closer.

“What's going on?” Gintoki asked. He lazily flopped onto the couch beside Shinpachi, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Is it just you?”

[Zura sent me.] Elizabeth said, holding up his sign. His duck-expression had a natural poker face to it, so Gintoki couldn't even read the mood. [I have letters for the kids, and a letter to be delivered.]

“Letters?” Gintoki asked. He shoved a pinky into his ear. “Why did you wait for me then?”

Elizabeth did not respond as he set his tea down onto the coffee table. He simply took his weird little duck hand and reached inside of his black and ominous mouth, pulling out two sealed envelopes. They were labeled, the 'U' for Shinpachi and 'N' for Kagura. Elizabeth leaned over the table, handing the envelopes to the kids. They both reached forward eagerly, accepting their letters.

“Can we read it now?” Shinpachi asked. Kagura's eyes were huge in excitement, watching the duck.

Elizabeth nodded.

_What is that weirdo up to?_

The kids tore open the letters with an excited holler, attention focused on reading their contents. Elizabeth took this opportunity to silently flash Gintoki a sign, and if the mood shifted ominously, Gintoki couldn't really tell past a gut feeling.

[Katsura has been acting strange lately. I think you should talk to him.]

Gintoki didn't respond, face neutral.

[He also wrote a letter for the Vice Chief. He would like for you to deliver it, but no earlier than tomorrow night. He wanted the kids to do it, but seeing how you're here...] From his mouth, Elizabeth pulled out a third envelope labeled 'O'. [He is also offering the kids payment for the errand.]

Gintoki reached over, accepting the letter. He let his confusion show on his face, just before the kids both glanced over to him. They didn't look half as excited as they had been before.

“Oh, he wrote you one too?” Shinpachi asked, glancing over. “He says he has a job for us. He wants me to deliver a letter to Hijikata-san, and to then keep an eye on Kondou-san. He says that he is planning something dramatic for my sister and that he'll have more information and letters later. He wants me to keep Kondou in my sights. Does that sound suspicious? That's suspicious, right?”

“Yup, yup.” Kagura said, waving her letter. “And he said he wants me to take Sadaharu with Pachi and watch that sadist for him. Said he's up to no good and helping out that gorilla chief. That we'd be better off prepared than not prepared for when the police dogs strike.”

 _That sounds suspicious as fuck._ Gintoki hummed, looking over the kids with an indifferent expression. They were watching him with huge eyes, excited and perhaps confused. He didn't know what to say, what to tell them. There was certainly a bigger picture here, but Gintoki wasn't quite sure what it was yet. _If you drag them into terrorist trouble, I will punt you to the moon._

“He wants us to report back anything suspicious to Elizabeth. He said we'll know when we see it.'” Shinpachi said.

“And he told us not to worry about Mayora.” Kagura said, waving her letter. “Said he already has you on him.”

 _Is that so?_ Gintoki raised an eyebrow, glancing back to Elizabeth. This was going to require an explanation. _What the hell is that wig head planning_ _and why is he lying to my kids?_

“Is that why you were there, yesterday?” Shinpachi asked. “To keep an eye on Hijikata?”

Well. Gintoki saw his chance, so he took it. His previous irritation about Katsura lying to his kids felt a little hypocritical. “Yeah.” Gintoki said. He tossed Hijikata's letter onto the coffee table so Shinpachi could collect it later. If Zura wanted Shinpachi to deliver it, Gintoki wouldn't stop him. He would be keeping an eye on them, though. “The police are being awfully suspicious lately. I got the same run down already.”

“Does this have anything to do with the bombing?” Kagura asked. She turned back to Elizabeth, her voice taking on a motherly tone. “Because if we're helping him bomb places, I don't want to help. I thought he was over that teenage-phase anyway?”

[That bomb wasn't us.] Elizabeth said. [And he says the photos aren't real. There's an impostor.]

“What photo?” Kagura asked, confused.

“The bomb wasn't you guys?” Shinpachi asked, gasping.

 _An impostor?_ Gintoki had a really bad feeling about this. “What's going on with the faction?”

[Someone else bombed the embassy, but they used our style of bombs. It looks like Katsura's work, but it wasn't him. We were at the party when it happened and I know he didn't set anything up beforehand.] Elizabeth suddenly stopped. Those impassive duck eyes were suddenly on Gintoki, suspicious.

Elizabeth didn't ask, but Gintoki was slightly offended that the thought had even been there. _Was it you?_

“And the photos?” Gintoki asked.

Elizabeth glanced to the kids before glancing back. [They were fakes.]

Elizabeth lowered his sign, eyes on Gintoki. Gintoki could smell trouble brewing, and belatedly he realized that he and the kids might have already been caught up in this since the day of the party. _Since I woke up on that park bench?_ Okay. Maybe Zura had started to drag them through the mud _after_ the whole park bench thing. _But they tried to abduct me off the street yesterday..._

Gintoki didn't respond, thoughts swirling out of control. He let the silence draw out way too long until he felt the need to clear his throat.

“Okay. So.” Gintoki said. “So you need the kids to deliver the letter to Mayora tomorrow night, and you need us to keep an eye out on the police because they're up to no good?”

[Yes.] Elizabeth said.

“Is that all?” Gintoki asked. It didn't add up, but Gintoki didn't dare question the duck, not in front of the kids. _I need to go talk to_ _Zura_ _. What is going on?_ He stood up, hand slung casually in his yukata.

[Yes. You have our thanks.] Elizabeth said, getting up as well. [And of course, Katsura promised a payment.]

“Heh. But that guy is just as broke as I am.” Gintoki laughed.

Elizabeth let Gintoki walk him to the door, Kagura and Shinpachi chatting excitedly in the main room. But at the front door, the duck paused. It looked like Elizabeth was thinking really hard before he turned around and pulled out a new sign. He made direct eye contact with Gintoki, but it didn't feel hostile.

[Katsura hasn't been in contact with you, has he?] Elizabeth asked like he already knew the answer. [He's been disappearing lately. I haven't been seeing him at home either. He only seeks me out to get me to pass a message along to the Joui, and he only shows up for meetings. He never told you to keep an eye on the Vice Chief, did he? You haven't seen him at all, have you?]

Gintoki hesitated, before shaking his head no.

[He's been acting strange ever since the bombing and the party. You've been acting strange since the party too, haven't you?] Elizabeth asked. [He didn't ask you to plant the bomb, did he?]

“God no.” Gintoki said, eyebrows creasing. Why was everyone so suspicious of him? “If he asked me, I would have punched him into next Saturday. He knows better.”

Elizabeth nodded. [Sorry. I just wanted to make sure he didn't involve you.]

Gintoki nodded. “Tell him to come and see me. And if he doesn't, I will hunt him down.”

Elizabeth nodded. [Will do. You know, if you need anything, I can help you out too, right?]

Gintoki only chuckled, low beneath his breath. _If only you could._ “Thanks. Don't worry about Zura. He might just be evolving into an even weirder guy.”

[I hope so.] Elizabeth said. [I'll see you around.]

Gintoki sighed, one hand ruffling his messy hair as he watched the duck leave.

_Zura. What the fuck?_

He scratched at the back of his head. Elizabeth did not turn back as he left, waddling away like the duck was wont to do. Gintoki had a strong urge to leave, too many questions running through his head than strictly necessary. He just hoped that seeking out Katsura wouldn't trap the terrorist into whatever Gintoki was caught up in too. Wouldn't that be a disaster? Gintoki's problems and Katsura's problems merging into one?  _What the hell._

“Hey, I'm going out with Elizabeth for a minute. I'll be right back!” Gintoki suddenly yelled, hurrying to step into his boots before either kid could stop him. He had _literally_ just gotten home. He had been drugged last night with some Amanto shit again and chased into a park. Had fucked it up with Hijikata, caught lying through his teeth, and that was right before he lied straight to the kids' face. And now he was leaving again before they could stop him from escaping? Going back out there, with something lurking in the shadows, nipping at his heels before it tried to get him? _The one acting strange is me._ He felt guilty for no more than a second. The guilt could come later.

Kagura only groaned from the main room, mumbling something like _'typical'_ before Shinpachi started to scold her.

Gintoki didn't hear the rest.

He rushed out the door, trotting down the steps as fast as he could and turning in the opposite direction Elizabeth had gone. He shoved his arm into his yukata and focused on the immediate task at hand, trying to keep his pace natural.

He needed to get some facts straight before he sought out Zura. Needed to know what he was dealing with, because when he wanted to, Zura could be just as evasive in a conversation as Gintoki.

He went to the nearest internet cafe to check out what the photos Elizabeth had been talking about were. Usually, when photos of Katsura surfaced on the internet, they were just of him being stupid. Hiding at the zoo. Hiding in a tree. He had been caught planting a bomb once, caught fighting off a street thug twice. Had been edited into the sea as a merman.

Gintoki sat at the desk and loaded up the browser, searching generally in Google for the pictures. Katsura was a top trending topic, as usual, you'd think the guy was an attention-whore or something, so finding information about him and the Joui wasn't too hard. It didn't take Gintoki long to find them, they were practically right there waiting for him. A hot topic, as usual. Loading them, Gintoki's eyebrows furrowed when he saw their contents.

Scanning them, Gintoki took in a deep breath. His eyebrows shot high up in disbelief as he cycled through the six _explicit_ photos, feeling like he was personally invading Katsura's privacy. _They have to be fake._ But there were certain little details that caught Gintoki's eye, from the length of his Takasugi-worthy bangs to what looked like a pink line on the outside of his thigh. A freshly healed wound slit upward from just above his knee. A deep, but not critical, wound half a day before _Shouyou_ that could have crippled him if Takasugi hadn't been watching Zura's back.

The scar was still pink. This happened not too long after the war.

He stared at the screen, eyes roaming over the photos, wondering what he was supposed to do now. His finger tapped against the desk, eyes staring but not seeing. He was eyeing the background, not seeing too much out of the ordinary. It looked like a regular bedroom with nothing noteworthy, nothing to give Gintoki context.

_What does this have to do with the bombings? What does this have to do with the police? Why would Elizabeth mention this in the same discussion? Did someone post these in bad sport, so now Zura's bombing them? But Elizabeth said the first bomb wasn't the Joui… Urhg. What kind of shitty arc is this?_

He needed to find Katsura sooner rather than later.

Leaving, he merged into the dark street, walking at a leisurely pace as he made his way to his next destination. It was amazing how fast it could get dark out, shadows lurking everywhere now. Gintoki was much more wary than usual as he went, reminded him of his stay with Otose, way back in the beginning when he was wary and spooked by _everything_.

Every sound on the street, every movement; nothing went unnoticed. He made sure to keep away from the alleys, kept an eye on the people around him. He knew it was paranoia at this point, and the replacement sword at his hip wasn't as comforting as he wanted it to be. But. It was better than nothing.

He stopped at a bar. It was one of those shoddy ones, one of the ones that the Joui usually found themselves in. He had met Katsura here a few times before. Gintoki doubted he would find him so fast; Zura wasn't the type to be found when he didn't want to be. There was a better chance at finding a shiny _Pokemon_ then finding Zura when he was hiding out. But this bar had a lot of rebels, and he knew if he saw anyone familiar, he could maybe ask about the faction's latest errands. Could maybe talk his way in typical Gintoki-fashion into getting information on Katsura himself.

He strolled in and took a seat at the bar. He sat down between two middle-aged men, waving over the familiar bartender. He came around just enough to recognize the man's face as he approached. Couldn't remember his name for the life of him, though.

“Just water.” Gintoki said, taking on a conversational tone. “See any big-wigs lately?”

“Not the kind you're looking for.” Said the bartender. “I can pass along a message if you want?”

“No thanks.” Gintoki said. He watched as the man filled up a glass with water. He accepted it with a thanks. With the glass in his hand, he spun around in the chair taking note of the people all around him. He carefully took a sip, eyes on the crowd, not spotting anyone that he was looking for. He couldn't just walk up to a strange rebel and expect the man to tell him what he wanted to know. There were certain men Gintoki was familiar with, and it didn't look like any of them were around.

Worst case scenario, Gintoki could just pass a message along through one of the lower ranking henchmen. Something ominous like, _come see Odd Jobs before he calls the space idiots back to Earth and rats you out._

Hours of people watching later, the water turned into seven alcoholic drinks, and somehow, Gintoki made friends with the middle-aged man beside him. The man had apparently lost his fourth wife, a divorce that had left him broke and homeless. Again. In bad humor, he chuckled because the man's story reminded him of somebody _else_ , currently residing in a cardboard box.

“Make sure you don't lie to your wife, or your kids.” The man said. He was nursing his second beer and had been moping for a good hour.

“I hear you.” Gintoki said. He was thinking again about the lies he told her earlier. The lies he had been telling all week. When had he turned into a liar? When had this become a thing? Usually, he just avoided the questions. Played them off as jokes or made up something _obviously_ fake. _Why do I feel so threatened by the truth?_

“Lying just makes everything more complicated doesn't it?” Gintoki muttered. He ordered another drink.

“Yeah.” The man agreed. “It's not worth it.”

It was then that the news apparently changed on the TV mounted on the wall because some other moping guy yelled to turn it up. Gintoki groaned, taking a mouthful, aware that he was going to be shitfaced in half an hour and he needed to stop _now._ This was binge drinking. It was unhealthy. But there he was, continuing to do it. He wasn't even giggling yet.

The bartender went over to the TV, he reached up and turned it up. It was the news, not the pretty lady that Gintoki liked best, but another one that did just as good.

“–gone off in central downtown. The embassy was closed for the night and police suspect that only janitorial staff were present when the explosive went off. There has been no confirmation that the Joui are linked to this bombing. A second explosive has gone off in a residential area, only an hour after the first. A subdivision that housed mostly Amanto was bombed, a subdivision where the ambassador resided. There is no death count as of yet –”

Gintoki finished his drink.

When he left he was pretty drunk. Somehow, he managed to get his way all the way down the street without incident. He was so focused on walking that he wasn't really thinking about much. He was mildly aware of everything going on around him, a little voice reminding him to stay vigilant, but it wasn't really a priority.

On the way, passing the nearby park, he couldn't help the little shudder that passed through him. It sobered him slightly, made him pay a little more attention than just to his feet. He didn't like those parks anymore. But the drink had also left him feeling pretty pleasant, so he didn't dwell on it for too long. Instead, he let his thoughts wander elsewhere the second he passed by.

Maybe tomorrow, he could go and apologize to Hijikata. Take the letter with the kids tomorrow too, as an excuse to be there. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Maybe bring something like mayonnaise along as an apology, leave it somewhere sneakily so Hijikata couldn't reject the gift.

 _Tomorrow is a new day._ Gintoki returned home, trying to be quiet as he snuck into his own house. He stumbled through the foyer, tripped, and sprawled across the floorboards. He remained there with one shoe on until morning.


	7. Some Things Are Obviously Suspicious

Hijikata leaned back against the police cruiser, smoke in hand. His eyes were turned up to the sky, watching as the first rays of the morning sun broke across the night sky. _Great. An all-nighter._ He wasn't surprised though, given the circumstances. He had expected to be out all night the moment he had gotten the call.

The red-blues on the police cars were still flashing, the little neighborhood finally retreating back inside their own houses. The neighbors had a right to be nosy, a bomb had just gone off after all, but there wasn't much the police could tell them right now. The expensive little house in question had been completely obliterated, the walls of the neighboring houses either severely damaged or collapsed. The neighbors knew it had been a bomb. The police knew it had been a bomb. But only Hijikata doubted it had been Katsura.

Something… something just wasn't quite right.

With his head higher in the clouds than the smoke trailing from his cigarette, Hijikata didn't hear Sougo approach until he was right there in front of him.

“It was Katsura.” Sougo said. “It's the usual MO.”

Hijikata jumped, eyes snapping to the first commander and fingers almost crushing his cigarette. Sougo's face was unreadable besides the exhaustion. But he was still functioning at max capacity, it seemed, so Hijikata wouldn't comment on the bags under his eyes. _Wonder how bad the bags are under_ my _eyes._

“How many casualties?” Hijikata asked, sighing out a lungful of smoke. It was the most important question.

“Four Amanto here. A guy next door was injured, but other than that, it was just the one janitor back at the embassy. Five deaths total.”

This sounded like Katsura… sort of. The Katsura of years ago, maybe. Low casualties. High havoc. The embassy had been completely destroyed with very little to show for it. Katsura's bombs always packed a punch, but his casualty count had been next to zero for the longest time. _So what about that first bomb?_ _What about all of those people, Amanto and human alike, who died? What is the connection? Is there a copycat? A Katsura wannabe? Or is Zura trying to sneakily slide his way back into full-scale terror? But why start off with a bang and then go low-key? Why take out an embassy during the day and then do the next a week later during the night when no one's around? And what about those photos? Are these Amanto connected to those photos and the first bombing, or are all of these individual occurrences? Is there a link between the crimes? They were planned, they_ look _planned, but what is the bigger picture?_

“Earth to Hijikata.” Sougo said, probably again. He was smirking, eyebrow raised. “It's like you've left us and gone to space again. I said: they are taking what they think are the fragments of the bomb back to forensics. We'll have more information later. There's nothing left for us to do here.”

“Okay.” Hijikata said. He sighed. “Let's go.”

In the car, he waited until they were at least a block away before he voiced his suspicions. He was leaning against the door panel while Sougo drove, staring out the window with a critical look at everything passing by like the trees and road signs were all part of some bigger puzzle. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that made him over think like this. Perhaps it was just the job in general. He wasn't sure.

But he was pretty damn sure about one thing.

“This looks more like Katsura's work than the first bomb did. But even so, it doesn't really feel like his MO.” Hijikata said. “Do you think it's possible the first bomb wasn't Katsura's?”

Sougo was silent for a moment, eyes glued on the road. His smile was gone, his face slack like he had been taking lessons from Gintoki. “It's possible.”

They fell into silence, the radio turned off for once to avoid hearing any more unwanted news. Hijikata could hear his blood pulsing in his ears. His thoughts drifted again, trying to find those frayed ends of this bombing mystery so he could string them all back together.

“If the first bomb wasn't his,” Sougo said, quietly breaking the silence with a foreign seriousness, “that means we're caught up between a terrorist war.”

Hijikata clicked his tongue. _A terrorist war?_ “So what do we do? Send Yamazaki in to become a Joui again? See what they're planning?”

Sougo glanced over, his smile taking on a particular style of sadistic. “Katsura has friends, you know. Local friends.”

Hijikata rolled his eyes, turning back to the window. _Yes. Yes, he does have friends, and yes, those friends probably have something to do with this._ _Gintoki probably has something to do with this, but I'm still hoping he's just caught up without even knowing it._ Hijikata didn't _really_ want to visit Gintoki, especially after what had happened the night before. But. Some things couldn't be helped.

Hijikata decided to steer the conversation away from Gintoki. “If this is a terrorist war, I think we should be more concerned about the non-local friends. That _one_ friend in particular. Which other terrorist is capable of leveling an entire embassy _and_ riling up Katsura at the same time?”

“Are you talking about Takasugi Shinsuke?” Sougo asked. “Why would Katsura be at war with an old comrade? Especially one that's been wrecking havoc mostly in space since the war ended? The entire country has been keeping an eye out for him. I don't think it's him, Hijikata. If it was, he would have made himself known.”

“You have a point.” Hijikata sighed. Crossing Takasugi off the list just left the Shiroyasha and the less notable Joui rebel that no one ever talks about. That guy probably doesn't even get any screen time.

They remained silent until Sougo parked at the barracks. Hijikata's fingers were twitching for a cigarette as he got out of the car, the morning sky a little brighter than it had been twenty minutes ago.

“Go find Yamazaki and meet me in my room.” Hijikata said, plucking out another cigarette. “Kondou's still at that meeting with the Shogun and Matsudaira, so we're just going to have to do some leg-work before we can make plans.”

“Right.” Sougo said.

Twenty minutes and another coffee loaded with mayonnaise later, Hijikata slid open his bedroom door to find Sougo and Yamazaki already conspiring. Stepping in and shutting the door behind him, Hijikata stepped to sit close to them, handing Sougo a fresh coffee.

“Hijikata.” Sougo said. “I was just planning my next murder attempt.”

“Great.” Hijikata said, settling by the other two men cross-legged.

“Sougo filled me in.” Yamazaki said. “I don't have anything to report, either. It's been a quiet night, aside from. You know.”

“Yamazaki, I want you to focus on finding Katsura. Nothing else is important right now.” Hijikata said. He took a sip of his coffee, grimacing because it needed more mayonnaise. “And when you do find him, I want you to keep watch. Move with him. Find his routine. Note everyone he stops to talk to. These bombs aren't his usual method, it's possible he isn't solely responsible.”

“Do you think he's taken on an apprentice?” Yamazaki asked. "A partner, maybe? Someone else to lead when he is absent?”

“Do you think he's expanding?” Sougo asked. “Like training your favorite employee to go manage a new store in another town?”

Hijikata huffed. God. He needed more mayo in this coffee. “I have no damn idea.” Hijikata said. “And I'm tired of theorizing. We know the first bomb leveled an entire embassy, killed just over two-hundred Amanto and almost thirty people. Then there were those photos that surfaced, the ones we haven't been able to trace. There was the new Joui recruit we arrested, who knew shit to help us with the investigation. And now there were two bombs only hours apart. A second embassy was leveled, and only five Amanto and a human janitor dead. It… doesn't feel like Katsura. It's too disorganized. The message isn't clear.”

_Maybe we really are looking at a terrorist war?_

Yamazaki laughed nervously. “Would you also like me to re-question the Joui we arrested? He might be our only lead right now...”

“I'll do it.” Sougo said, eyes turning to Hijikata. He winked. “Just me this time, with closed curtains.”

“Do what you want. I don't think we'll gleam any more information out of him, though. He's already been sentenced too, so seeing him might be a hassle.” Hijikata sighed. “Sougo. I want you to keep an eye on Odd Jobs. Go there. Be in his hair. Follow the kids around. I know China Girl tries to murder you every time she sees you, but they like you. They might tell you something accidentally.”

“You really think Gintoki is involved?” Yamazaki asked.

“He did disappear twenty-four hours before the first bomb, and then there was that incident with the tree.” Sougo said. “Coincidence? Boss goes missing, and then a day later, bombs go off?”

 _He was also injured when I went to visit him, after the first bomb._ Hijikata closed his eyes for a second, unwilling to further incriminate Gintoki quite yet. He really needed a nap. _And then what was that last night? A bad case of partying or something else?_ _Guilt? Can't kill without drinking himself stupid? Is Katsura dragging him through the mud? Is Gintoki setting the bombs for him?_

“Just keep an eye on him.” Hijikata said, eyes opening tiredly. “I want nightly reports from the both of you, and if anyone asks, keep quiet.”

“Understood.” Yamazaki said. “I will do my best.”

“I'll go talk to the Joui again and drop by Odd Jobs after.” Sougo said. “What are you going to be doing?”

Hijikata rolled his eyes. “Your paperwork, obviously.”

 

–

 

Brushing his teeth, Gintoki remembered why he had always said he was going to quit drinking, remembered just how terrible hangovers could truly be. His mouth was sour. His throat was sour. His head was murky and gross. Eyes were glassy. His teeth? Gross. Everything was gross. There were bags under his eyes, and he was sore from sleeping on the floor and there was still a print in his cheek from the crack in the floorboards.

There were a hundred reasons to stop drinking, and yet as he exited the bathroom, he knew it would happen again anyway. It always did. Go out drinking, wake up with a whole day missing from his memory? Not a deterrent apparently.

“Gin-san, there's a letter for you.” Shinpachi called from the main room. The second Gintoki entered the living room, Shinpachi adopted _the look_. “Did you go out drinking again last night?”

Gintoki laughed, ignoring the question as he plucked the offered envelope from Shinpachi on his way by. Sure enough, his name was written across the front of it and sure enough, Shinpachi was already scolding him for being immature and irresponsible.

“What did you expect, Pachi?” Kagura said. She was sitting on the couch cross-legged, shoving more rice into her mouth, eyes glued to the TV. “You didn't raise him to be a respectable man.”

“ _I_ didn't raise him?”

“Nope. I always told you to be more firm.” Kagura said.

Gintoki rolled his eyes, collapsing into his desk chair. His head was swimming, his temples throbbing as he kicked up his bare feet onto his desk. He would get some pain killers in a bit, but first, this letter. He needed to at least _look_ like he was working. He popped the letter open, pulling out a nice, neatly written message.

“Do we have any jobs today?” Shinpachi asked, turning around to look at him over the back of the couch. “Or should we start Katsura's errand?”

“There was a delivery or something, but the client isn't here yet. He'll be here around nine? Or ten? Or was it three?” Gintoki said, eyes scanning the contents of the letter. It was addressed to him and was signed with a very messy signature. _One of my employees came in with a wooden sword h_ _is daughter found in a park._ _I'm_ _pretty sure it's yours,_ _you were a customer of mine a few times at my old location_ _. If you're missing your sword, I might have it._ _If not, I apologize for taking your time._

Gintoki hummed, scanning over the address. It was a barbershop downtown called The Chop and Lop. He had definitely never been there, but the address looked familiar. _My sword, hey?_ The information was right. It was very likely he had left his sword either on the park bench or near it that morning. Had been too disoriented to notice it was missing.

“Also, keep an eye on those police dogs.” Gintoki said, interrupting whatever Shinpachi had been saying. He pushed the letter back into the envelope and tucked it into the pocket of his pants for use later. “I'll come with you for the client's delivery, but there's something else I need to take care of after.”

“Zura?” Kagura asked, her mouth full of rice. She glanced over to him, seemingly eager and excited. “Are you going to see Zura?”

Gintoki only hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “We'll go when Kagura's done eating all of the rice in the house, or before the client gets here. Whichever happens to occur first.”

“So... after this bowl?” Shinpachi asked.

Gintoki laughed. For a second. Before he understood what was being said. “There's no more rice?”

 

-

 

After the delivery – twenty-seven boxes of oranges, from an old lady who had taken half an hour just to get up the front steps, delivered to a produce stand – Gintoki excused himself for his _own_ errand. He would have taken the kids along, but if they had come with him to go collect his sword, then he would have _had_ to go with them afterward to deliver the letter to Hijikata. Gintoki certainly did _not_ want to go there. He did _not_ want to see the Vice Chief. Nuh-uh.

Instead, he found himself walking through the front door of The Chop and Lop, stepping into the nice, clean barbershop. The tiles were white and pristine, the shop was bright with lots of windows and pleasant lighting. There was only one customer – a recognizable member of Katsura's faction, interesting – and a handful of employees. Not too busy but not awkwardly dead.

A pleasant woman with rainbow colored hair approached him, smiling. She was short and small in stature, but she carried herself confidently. “Hello sir, can I help you?”

Gintoki was staring at her hair. He blinked, before glancing down to her face, looking her over like he had seen her before. “I got a letter from the owner this morning. Said someone found my sword?”

“Oh. Right.” Her facial expression didn't change, but her tone suddenly became bland. “I'll take you to him, he's in his office.”

Gintoki hummed, watching as the woman turned away. He followed her through the shop and out a back door, emerging into a narrow hallway.

“His office is just at the end.” She said, pointing. “Just go ahead and knock. He says he's busy, but he's not really.”

“Thanks.” Gintoki said. He watched her go, his eyes still struck by her colorful hair. Slightly unnerved, he glanced to the door at the end of the hall.

It was pretty normal, he thought as he approached it on silent feet. Simple in design, foreboding in aura. Nothing peculiar, it was just a door, right?

He knocked, head leaning close to listen to the other side. It was silent on the other side, no chattering or movement. “It's Odd Jobs.” He called, still listening. “You wrote about my sword?”

“Come in.” He heard from the other side of the wood.

 _Sounds familiar._ He thought as he turned the handle and opened the door. Gintoki stepped into the office one foot before he paused. His eyes widened, grip on the door handle becoming dangerously tight. The loner sword at his hip made itself known, his right hand twitching in anticipation of a fight.

Nakamura glanced up from his desk, a small smile on his face. _He looked like a background character, but a nicer looking background character._ “Odd Jobs. Have a seat.”

No way. Nuh-uh. Gintoki was not going to _have a seat._

“We have things to discuss.” Nakamura said, waving towards the chair across from his desk. His eyes were friendly behind his frames. If Gintoki didn't know better, he would have trusted this man again. “Things involving you. I think you'd like to hear what I have to say.”

“Not interested.” Gintoki said. He felt like the protagonist from another series, suddenly impassive and indifferent to the bullshit happening before him. He didn't know if Nakamura had personally violated him, but he didn't really want to give the guy a second chance. Nope.

But as Gintoki turned away, ready to leave his sword forever behind and walk out, Nakamura called out to him. “There's a video of you.”

Gintoki paused. He was past the threshold, was technically in the hallway already and in a prime position to leave and never look back, but that short explanation made his stomach churn. There's a video. Of Gintoki. Doing things Gintoki doesn't even remember.

“And videos of your kids. Walking down the street and the like. Nothing scary. Yet.” Nakamura said. His voice was deceptively sweet. “Unfortunately, there are things we _need_ to discuss. Please come sit. Don't force my hand.”

Gintoki hesitated, gaze still trained on the door he had come through. Gintoki didn't trust his words, he didn't trust them at all. _A polite stranger who had lied to get him into that park alone._ But the threat was too much. The memory loss was too much. The danger was too much.

Slowly, Gintoki turned around, eyes on Nakamura like he was prey. “Make it quick.”

“Come in, sit down.” Nakamura said again, waving Gintoki forward. “We might be here for a while.”

Gintoki moved into the office. He left the door slightly ajar and kept his distance. He wasn't even within arms reach of the desk chair. “I said make it quick.”

“Alright, alright.” Nakamura said, waving his hands. “Okay. Gintoki, how are you?”

Gintoki's expression must have turned murderous because suddenly Nakamura laughed.

“Okay, I get it.” Nakamura said. “Make it quick. Do you know why you're here?”

“For my sword.” Gintoki said. His voice was low, threatening. “Only my sword.”

“Mmm, unfortunate.” Nakamura said. He spun in his chair, fingers pyramiding together. “So here's the deal. I'll give you your sword back, but I need you to do some errands for me.”

“Should have thought about that before you drugged me.” Gintoki said. “Did you expect me to forget about it? Forgive and forget?”

“No, oh no. Of course not.” Nakamura said. When he smiled, it looked sad. “You need to understand I am not the puppet master here. I simply do as I'm told right now because I have no other choice. Gintoki, I'll lay it out straight for you. I will give you your sword back as an apology, but I'll need you to come back here every once in a while. Errands. It's simple, really. You just need to come into my office when I call you. Sit down, make some faces on camera, and then you can leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don't want a repeat of last weekend, do you?” Nakamura asked. He shifted in his chair, reaching for something out of Gintoki's view. The hairs on the back of Gintoki's neck rose when the man raised his sword, gently placing it on the office desk.

“I need to take a photo of you. A few photos, actually.” Nakamura explained. His smile was gone, his dark eyes soft as he leaned forward. “You and your kids are at risk, Gintoki, but I don't want to repeat what happened last time. Unfortunately, I can't get you out of this.”

“What is _this?_ ” Gintoki asked. His eyes did not waver from Nakamura's face.

Nakamura sighed. “I can't tell you. I'm not allowed. _But_ , I can make this easier for you. Let's just say, I am only a commander right now. I am not the chief, not the one making the _big_ decisions. I need proof that you were here and that bad things happened in this room today. But I don't want to see you hurt. What they did last week was… excessive.”

“You're… not making any sense.” Gintoki said. He was suddenly very wary. Wary of everything behind him, around him. Of Nakamura, all the way over there in his desk. Gintoki's flight response was kicking in. He didn't want to be here. _But the kids…_

“I have photos and video footage of you from last week.” Nakamura said. “I need more.”

“Ha. No.” Gintoki said. Short and sweet. He turned away. “I'm leaving now.”

“If you leave this office, I can't help you.” Nakamura said. “Do you know how many times they raped you last week? Do you remember how much you enjoyed it? I don't think you want that, and I can help you avoid it.”

Gintoki paused. He had a headache suddenly blossoming at the front of his skull, and his right hand twitched again.

“You don't want that again, and you certainly don't want that to happen to your kids.” Nakamura said. He sounded concerned. Desperate, almost. Gintoki knew it was fake. “Let me _help you_.”

“No.” Gintoki turned around, deadly slow. This man was talking without saying anything at all and it was really starting to piss him off. “If you mention my kids one more time, you won't be having any of your own.”

“You don't understand the situation you're in.” Nakamura said.

“It doesn't sound like you're actually going to tell me straight, so I'm leaving.” Gintoki said. He made to leave again, turning away form Nakamura after eyeing him up. “Keep the sword. It's not worth the trouble.”

“It's Katsura.” Nakamura said when Gintoki was a step away from the door again. It sounded like he had stood up, his chair rolling away from his desk.

Gintoki stopped. It felt like his head was spinning like all of this was coming full circle. Like he was going to get the big bad explanation, and it was all going to be painfully clear. _What did Zura get me into?_

“Let me help you.” Nakamura said. “The Joui have big plans, and you can't be in the way. Gintoki, you're the only one who poses a threat, the only one who can stop him. Katsura asked for you to be kept subdued.”

“Subdued?” Gintoki breathed.

“Temporarily out of the picture. MIA. Call it what you will.” Nakamura took in a deep breath. “He knows about what happened to you. I was the most trusting face, so I was recruited to be the one who approached you and you came with me. But the group assigned to control you for the instructed amount of time, they had bad plans from the start. Katsura knew, and he didn't stop them.”

 _What?_ Gintoki remained rooted where he stood, eyebrows creasing. _What the fuck?_

“I can't say any more. I can't tell you why.” Nakamura said. “They tried to get you in the alley the other night, right? Escaping won't be easy now. Gintoki, _please_.”

Slowly, Gintoki turned. He cast his glance over his shoulder, not quite believing what he was hearing. Nakamura looked sincere. But then again, he had looked sincere the other night too, like he had genuinely intended to see Gintoki home.

“If you walk out of here, I will have to make the phone call. You will wake up tomorrow night with no idea what happened.” Nakamura said. “Or, you can sit down in that chair. I'll snap a photo of you, and we can call it a day. Nothing dramatic.”

 _There's no way_ _._ Gintoki turned back to the door. He considered his options for a quick moment, and he made his decision.

He passed the threshold, slamming the door behind him. _No fucking way, Zura would never…_

He didn't even make it to the door when the girl with the rainbow hair appeared in the hallway, the shop closed off behind her. She glanced up to Gintoki, a syringe in her hand that Gintoki immediately registered as a threat. He backed away from her and she moved with him, silent and smooth.

Gintoki's hand fell on his loner sword.

At the other end of the hall, the door opened to what looked like the back alley, a large man stepping inside. He was a hulking figure, bald as a newborn baby's ass, and it didn't look like he was going to let Gintoki pass. But most importantly, Gintoki recognized him from the other day. That was the man that had knocked into him, sending him into the alley.

Gintoki took his chance with the girl. She was half his size, half his weight, and the door to the shop was right _there_. With his sword drawn, he swung for her but she dodged beneath it, lunging for him instead. She stabbed the syringe at his thigh and he moved out of the way just in time.

But the hulking man was suddenly _right there_ , and he did nothing more than grab for Gintoki's face. Gintoki danced a step back, and then another when the rainbow-girl lunged for him again. His back hit Nakamura's door, but when he grabbed the handle, it didn't turn.

_He locked me out._

The girl lunged for him, eyes set on the thigh, the syringe on target. Gintoki's blade whipped brutally fast in a downward arc to cut her down, but the wood was caught between both hands of the bald man. It cut through skin and blood instantly burst from the wounds on his palms, but that was all. With his sword halted, Gintoki moved his leg out of the way, the needle tearing through the inside of his pant-leg and grazing his skin. But she used the momentum to slam it into his other thigh. He couldn't dodge in time. There was nowhere left to go.

Gintoki gasped, hands tightening on the hilt of his loner sword as the needle sank into muscle. The rainbow-girl pressed the plunger and then jumped back away from the both of them, an odd chill spearing through Gintoki's veins.

He tried to keep focused, eyes cast down to the needle sticking out from the inside of his thigh.

Stepping back as well, the bald man let go of Gintoki's sword.

The blade dropped to the ground. Gintoki's vision suddenly swam.

The lock to Nakamura's office clicked. The door popped open just as Gintoki dropped to the ground.


	8. Can Literal People Use Metaphors?

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Hijikata asked, glancing up from his most recent text message. Sougo hadn't been able to question the Joui patriot again, had needed to make an appointment. He also hadn't come across Gintoki or his kids yet, which made sense considering _here the kids were._

 _Should I tell him the_ _kids are here_ _, or should I let him wander around a little more?_ _Bah, the idiot is probably off having a nap anyway._

Hijikata was in the cafeteria for a late lunch, trying to enjoy the first decent meal he'd had in quite some time, when Gintoki's little runts dropped down on the bench across from him. China Girl had a whole tray of food before her, some swiped OJ from the fridge, and Glasses had that mother hen look on his face. One day, that boy was going to make a very serious, very scary adult. Actually, _both of them_ were going to make very scary adults, for two completely different reasons.

“We came to see you.” Kagura said ominously, shoving rice into her mouth. She chewed, blue eyes half-lidded as she stared through Hijikata's soul.

“We're on a delivery. We have a letter for you.” Shinpachi clarified. His glasses glinted. He raised his hand above the table, the envelope ready to be handed over. “You have a... secret admirer.”

Two things passed through Hijikata's head as he pocketed his cellphone and hesitantly reached for the envelope. One, Gintoki had written him an apology letter (very unlikely) or two, like several other characters in this show, _he finally had a stalker._ Acquiring a stalker would fit in with the mass chaos that had been going on in his life lately, and Hijikata's day _had_ started off suspiciously uneventful. But he really didn't want a stalker. _What if it was Gintoki_ _stalking me_ _? Would that be okay? No way! Stalkers are creepy_ _no matter who they are_ _!_

Apprehensive, Hijikata accepted the letter and stared at the face of it. There was an 'O' written on it in the top left-hand corner, a little detail that piqued Hijikata's interest because it was odd.

He tore the envelope open and pulled the letter out, very aware that both kids were watching him with awkward intensity. Kagura had even stopped chewing just to stare at him.  _Why are they doing that? Who is this from?_

Opening the letter, Hijikata was surprised to see how short it was. It was a note. Nothing more than a simple message, short and sweet.

 _Demon Vice Chief. You know that parfait we share?_ _Yeah w_ _ell, it's melting._ _Maybe try moving it out of direct sunlight for once instead of just waiting_ _for the weather to change. PS. Your hair sucks. Get it fixed at_ _T_ _he Chop and Lop._

Scrunching his brows, Hijikata read it over once more. And then again. Was this from Gintoki? The writing was way too neat, and there was no name attached, but it was familiar handwriting for sure. A parfait? A melting parfait? And what was this aggression towards his hair? Hijikata set the letter down, glancing to the kids in confusion. Did they know who the letter came from, or had they just been recruited to deliver it?

“Well?” Kagura asked hopefully. “How'd it go?”

“What did it say?” Shinpachi asked.

Why were they so excited? Hijikata glanced back to the letter to double check that he had, in fact, read it properly. It was so hostile at the end. He felt threatened like he was being called out for something he had unknowingly done. Confused, Hijikata checked over the envelope again, finding nothing else in it or on it besides the 'O'. Hijikata decided to start with that.

“Why is there an 'O' on it?” He asked.

Kagura glanced to Shinpachi, who then glanced back to her. He shrugged before turning back to Hijikata and stuttering through an explanation that sounded suspiciously like he was avoiding the truth. “Uh, there were, uh, three letters total and they spelled out UNO.”

“From who?” Hijikata asked.

“Your secret admirer.” Kagura said. “Maybe it's your soul mate, Mayora. Maybe this is a soul mate AU.”

“I doubt it.” Hijikata said. The letter wasn't from Gintoki. “Who got the other two letters?”

Kagura glanced to Shinpachi, spilling the beans before Shinpachi could stop her. “We did.”

 _Who the hell sent these, then? And where is_ _T_ _he Chop and Lop? That sounds like a butcher's shop, not a place to get a haircut!_ Curious, Hijikata scrunched his brows again. “Who… is this from?”

“We can't tell you!” Shinpachi said, but he sounded like he was trying to remind Kagura that she wasn't allowed to tell him. He even nudged her with his elbow, his voice taking on a wavering note. “It's like we said. You have a secret admirer!”

“That's right, aru!”

“Then why go through all of the trouble to send me an encrypted message?” Hijikata asked. “It doesn't even make sense. If I knew who sent it, I might be able to decipher it. As it stands, this message is meaningless to me.” _Is the parfait supposed to be Gintoki?_ _Is he melting?_ _Why does my hair suck! It does not!_

“Eli didn't say we _couldn't_ tell him.” Kagura said, suddenly whipping her head towards Shinpachi. She didn't even try to whisper. “She just said _you_ had to be the one to deliver it. She didn't say anything about it being a secret.”

“Kagura, we can't _just tell him_.” Shinpachi whispered, making a face like Kagura was missing the obvious.

“Eli?” Hijikata asked. That sounded familiar. Actually, all of this was starting to sound familiar.

“Why not?” Kagura asked. “Zura wasn't specific so Eli wasn't specific which means we can be specific if we want to be.”

“Zura?” Hijikata asked.

“Kagura! You're telling him!” Shinpachi said.

“Okay, I'll tell him. Mayora, the letter is from Zura, our friendly neighborhood terrorist.” Kagura said, whipping her attention back to Hijikata. “What are you going to do about it? Is it a hint? A clue? Are you finally going to be the respectable police officer you claim to be? Is he actually your secret admirer or do you have a job from him too?”

“No! I meant you were _accidentally_ telling him and that you needed to stop!” Shinpachi scolded. “Don't listen to her, Hijikata, we lied to her so she couldn't actually spill who your secret admirer is! Kagura! We can't tell him who the letter is _really_ from!”

“But Elizabeth really came to us with the letters and said they were from Zura!” Kagura said, shoving more rice in her mouth. Her face was still lazy and impassive. She knew exactly what she was doing here. “Gin-chan says lying is bad for the soul, Pachi.”

 _Huh. What a hypocrite._ Hijikata huffed. He glanced back down to the letter, reading it over yet again. _From Katsura, hey? Our parfait? Does he mean Gintoki? Why is Gintoki melting? Why was a parfait left in the sun, anyway?_ _Why is he being so aggressive towards my hair and telling me not to wait for the weather to change? What does that mean? The weather to change? What the hell._

“This is from Katsura? He indirectly sent the three of us messages?” Hijikata asked. He slid the note back into the envelope and then shoved it deep into his inside pocket for later. “What did he tell the two of you?”

At that, both kids remained quiet. But Kagura was humming with energy, looking like she suddenly couldn't sit still. _Doesn't look like he mentioned anything bad to them. Nothing bomb-related then. Which raises the question-_

“Zura isn't responsible for the bombs.” Shinpachi suddenly said. “You look like you want to ask. But it wasn't him.”

“There's an imposer.” Kagura said.

“Imposter.” Shinpachi corrected.

“An imposter?” Hijikata asked. He… wasn't surprised. If anything, his suspicions up until now were being reinforced. Most likely, Katsura wasn't responsible for the bombs. Something had just been off since day one, and eventually, it would all make sense. Hijikata was glad Gintoki hadn't come with the kids, otherwise, they probably wouldn't have told him this much. “And where is Gintoki?”

“He went on an errand about an hour ago.” Shinpachi said. “Why?”

“He was just tired from helping that old lady move all of her oranges so he's out slacking.” Kagura said. “And yeah. Why?”

“Curious.” Hijikata said. He huffed, standing up from the table and grabbing his tray. He paused, a delayed thought crossing his mind. “Thank you for bringing me the letter.”

“You're welcome.” Shinpachi said. He smiled then, beaming so bright at the simple praise.

“Hey, where are you going with that?” Kagura asked loudly, pointing at his tray. “Are you going to throw it out? That's such a waste!”

Surprised, Hijikata huffed a laugh. He set the tray back down, sliding it Kagura's way. “Are you being fed properly, or are you just a little glutton?”

“What did you just call me!”

“Listen. If you're going to stick around after to look for Sougo, he's not here. I'm sure you two will find your way out exactly how you found your way in.” Hijikata said. He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes as he turned to leave the room. He needed a smoke first, to clear his head. And then he needed to call Yamazaki to see what he could dig up on the Chop and Lop. Katsura wasn't exactly _free_ with his information. He always got something out of it. _So what do you want from me?_ _What game are you playing?_

Hijikata still couldn't wrap his head around it. Any of it. There was something missing to the puzzle. _And it's probably Gintoki._ How did Gintoki fit into all of this? And why was he being compared to a parfait?

“I think I want to be a Shinsengumi dog for the day.” Kagura said from behind him. Hijikata stopped, glancing over his shoulder at her. “What do you say? Think they have a uniform in my size?”

“Probably.” Shinpachi said. “Let's go look.”

“I'm eating.”

“Okay, _I'll_ go look.” Shinpachi said. He got up from the table, his eyes skirting past Hijikata like he was going to get into trouble. He ran off before anyone could stop him.

“You can't just become a member of the Shinsengumi for a day!” Hijikata said, yelling across the room. These kids were too much. What were they doing! He rushed back over to the table because they could _not_ be Shinsengumi for a day!

“Why not?” Kagura asked. “If we run into Gin-chan on patrol maybe he'll be jealous and actually do some work for once to win us back. You can't just let the king have you in the inevitable romance, you gotta make him chase you first!”

“What does a king have to do with anything? That is so backhanded!” Hijikata said. “You're just using me _and_ him to get what you want!”

“I didn't backhand anyone!” Kagura said, shoving Hijikata's rice into her mouth. The rest of her sentence was garbled between the food.  
  
“I'm saying you're being manipulative.” Hijikata said. He huffed, hand to his forehead. “Fine. It's not like telling you 'no' is going to stop you anyway. Just let me smoke in peace at least. If you're going to be Shinsengumi for the day, you better be on your best behavior.”

Kagura, distracted by food, didn't follow him outside. Hijikata stood in the yard behind the tree, shivering as he brought the smoke to his lips. _It's so cold already._ With his other hand, he pulled out his cellphone to quickly text Yamazaki his instructions, before his hands could go numb. _[Get me info on 'the Chop and Lop'. Might have something to do with Katsura.]_ On second thought, he texted Sougo too. _[Kids are at the barracks being nosy.]_

Once Hijikata was finished his smoke, he considered sneaking back inside to at least get mittens, but then he decided against it. He didn't need a scarf or mitts. He could acquire some along the way.

He went over the wall like a criminal, fleeing the barracks before the kids could find him again.

 

–

 

“The Chop and Lop is just a barber shop.” Yamazaki whispered, binoculars held up to his eyes. “There's light Joui activity, but nothing out of the ordinary. I even took the time to Google the place. It has a nine-point-five out of ten rating.”

“Great.” Hijikata said, binoculars raised so he could scout out the building across from theirs. They were totally visible on the roof of the neighboring shop, but Yamazaki seemed convinced they wouldn't be caught. “Sounds like a dead end.”

“Were you thinking about getting a hair cut?” Yamazaki asked.

Hijikata lowered his binoculars to stare. Murderously.

Yamazaki chuckled nervously in response to the dark aura suddenly wafting from Hijikata, still watching the building. He was wrapped up in a fluffy yellow jacket, a scarf wound tightly around his neck and lower face. He looked suspicious, but he also looked warm. “So, um, well, you see. Also. Uh, so Katsura. Katsura, I haven't been able to find Katsura yet. It seems he's been on the down-low lately. But I did spot his duck side-kick.”

Hijikata huffed, leaning back from their perch and pulling out his bottle of mayonnaise with chilled fingers. “And?”

“And he, uh, well.” Yamazaki lowered his binoculars, turning Hijikata's way. “The duck visited Odd Jobs yesterday, and then he went to two confirmed Joui hideouts. I didn't see him come out of the second one, but he must have left. I lost his trail.”

Hijikata stared at his bottle of mayonnaise in his hands, confused. This wasn't what he wanted. He tucked it back into his pocket before pulling out his cigarettes, mentally chastising himself for being so spacey. “Why didn't you tell me about Odd Jobs?”

“Do you really think Gintoki has something to do with this?” Yamazaki asked. He put the binoculars back up to his face, watching the shop like he didn't want to have this discussion. “Him and Katsura?”

“It doesn't matter what I think.” Hijikata said. “If he's involved, we're going to find out. Move locations so you can see the back door. If anything suspicious is going on, it'll be at the back door. I'm going to leave now to make sure Sougo is doing his job.”

Hijikata lit his cigarette first, before standing up. “Call me as soon as you see anything. Don't wait to tell me things. I want to know about it the second it happens. Got it?”

“Of course!” Yamazaki said, sitting up. “I'll move positions right now!”

Hijikata hummed in agreement, but now that he was standing, his eyes were on the sky. _The parfait is melting._ The sky was overcast, the wind chilly, reminding him that he really should have brought mitts. His hands were frozen. _How is the parfait melting in this freezing weather?_ It was probably a metaphor, duh. But was Katsura even capable of metaphors? He was so literal all the time. Things metaphorically flew right over his head left right and center.

“Hijikata?” Yamazaki asked. “Are you lost? I asked you if there was anything else you need me to look out for.”

“Hmm?” Hijikata turned to Yamazaki, confused. “Oh. Keep an eye out for Odd Jobs and Katsura.”

“Yeah, I already got that.”

Hijikata hummed. Yamazaki was in place. Sougo was watching the kids. There was a handful of Shinsengumi on the lookout for Katsura specifically. As soon as Hijikata tracked down Gintoki, everyone would be in place. The police would be watching.

Now, it was only a waiting game.

“Hey.” Hijikata said. “If someone told you 'move something out of the sun instead of waiting for the weather to change', what do you think that means?”

“Huh?” Yamazaki tilted his head before glancing up towards the sky in wonder. He thought long enough that Hijikata sighed, not expecting an answer. “Maybe it has heat stroke?”

Why was this guy still employed?

 

–

 

In hindsight, Katsura should have ended all of this before it even had a chance to start. He should have walked out of Nakamura's office that day, when he had slapped down those two envelopes of blackmail. Should have gone straight to Gintoki and warned him about what was going to happen. He should have stopped this before it got out of hand. But regardless, the game had gone on too long now, and Katsura would take any out he could get.

Open-handed, Nakamura struck him.

The second Nakamura had tracked him down, he had sunk a hand onto Katsura's shoulder and guided him off the street. Katsura was both appreciative to be out of the cold and apprehensive of Nakamura's company. They were on the bar side of a familiar little restaurant that welcomed suspicious people like them. Hidden in the bathroom with the door locked, Nakamura finally brought up what had happened with the Amanto residence and the embassy. And judging by the sting in Katsura's cheek from his hit, Nakamura was livid.

“Are you taking me for a fool?”

With his back to the counter, Katsura grit his teeth. He did not put a hand to his reddening cheek, did his best not to respond to the situation at all despite his surprise. He didn't want to give Nakamura the satisfaction he was looking for, to feed into the negative behavior. Katsura hadn't expected for Nakamura to lash out at him like this. It caught him completely off guard and momentarily, he was stunned unresponsive.

“Well?” Nakamura asked, voice rising. Katsura startled.

“Your target and his family died.” Katsura said. He had been the one to make the bombs. He had been the one to place the bombs. And he had been the one to set it to detonate in the middle of the night to keep the casualties low.

“I gave you a specific time. They didn't go off when I told you to set them off.” Nakamura said. He leaned in closer, the rare show of frustration present on his face. “I gave you a specific time for _both_ of them. Listen, I understand that you're-”

' _I understand this', and 'I understand that'._ Katsura was sick of Nakamura's manipulative speeches and sick of being controlled. He was sick of listening to Nakamura speak in general. He was sick of feeling guilty. “You said eleven.” Katsura said. “The bombs went off at eleven and eleven-fifteen.”

Nakamura blinked twice, eyelids half-lidded because _yes_ , he did say eleven, and yes Katsura knew Nakamura had meant during the day. But he hadn't been _that_ specific. So Katsura had let the bombs go off at night, left it up to luck whether the Amanto would be home or not.

Nakamura struck him open-handed again, much harder this time. Katsura recoiled, still silent, but it hurt much worse than the first hit. It had caught him high on the cheekbone, that eye closing as the pain flared up the side of his face. It was a minor price to pay.

Nakamura took in a deep breath. “You will not get away with minor technicalities. I was clear. If it happens again, Gintoki might not be enough. You understand what that means, right? I didn't want to drag more people into this than necessary or get any more creative than I already have, Katsura. Why is it so hard for you to listen? I'm starting to think you don't even care about your friend. Is that it? Do I have to try something else? Something worse?”

 _You don't even have Gintoki, though._ Elizabeth had mentioned dropping off the letters yesterday, had mentioned that Gintoki had been there with the kids, looking happy and healthy. Which meant Nakamura had been lying the other day and he was lying right now. Nakamura didn't have Gintoki. Katsura wasn't sure how much Nakamura had lied about already, but it seemed as though he wasn't as omnipotent as he was making himself out to be. It was only a matter of time until the police were on to him too, adding in extra stress to their already high-stakes game. _How good are you under pressure, Nakamura?_ The whole purpose for tipping off the police was for Nakamura to feel the pressure, to rush things. To slip up so Katsura could take him out.

Katsura glanced to him, skin burning. He swallowed, throat visibly bobbing, eyes narrowed. “If you're going to lead the Joui, you're going to have to be that specific. You can't leave things up to interpretation.” _You_ _'ll_ _never lead the Joui barking commands like that_ _anyway_ _. You need to do the dirty work yourself,_ _to pave the way._

But the Joui were receiving Nakamura disappointingly well. He was good at what he did, apparently. Had the potential to lead. Was good for morale. Blah blah blah. He talked like Katsura did in the old days, just had a little more respect for authority. Nakamura was winning them over like he had planned, and had already confirmed that a good portion of the faction would turn back to their old, more destructive ways if Katsura suddenly decided that was the direction he was going to go. The men would follow Katsura. The men would follow _Katsura._ Nakamura wanted it so bad.

“Do I need to be that specific with you? Do I need to painstakingly explain myself every time?” Nakamura asked. “I'm not you. You act more like a guidance counselor than a leader, sometimes. This doesn't happen again, do you understand?”

Nakamura waited a prolonged moment like he expected Katsura to respond. “Cut the stubborn act. I'll update you on Gintoki's status later. I expect you in my office tonight so we can rectify this situation. I want the Joui to think there's a group out there living the best of both worlds. I want them to side with a more... _vigilante_ approach to dealing with the Amanto. They can cause some terror, but only for the greater good. We'll strike down the bad ones, and before you know it, the Joui are striking Amanto of all kinds without even thinking about it. They just need to believe their targets are bad, that they're doing it for justice. You will tell them.”

Katsura cleared his throat. It was sticking more than it ever had. Nakamura talked too much, and his voice was starting to have a negative impact on Katsura's patience. “I will not be coming tonight. You're going to have to rectify the bombing yourself and spread your own lies yourself. You've been doing a good job of that so far, what do you need me for?”

Nakamura's eyebrow twitched and for a second, Katsura thought he was going to be hit again. Nakamura moved right up against Katsura then, trapping him against the counter. He leaned forward, predatory-slow, both hands resting on the counter at Katsura's hips. Katsura flinched back, both aware of what was happening here and disappointed in himself. Nakamura's struggle to come out on top was paying off.

Katsura _could_ use that to his advantage.

“It's like we've gone back to square one, _Zura._ Tell me, is Gintoki's suffering not enough?” Nakamura asked. “Should I ask you to turn around and give me your sword? Would you prefer that?”

The fine hairs on the back of Katsura's neck rose. This was an opportunity to take the spotlight from Gintoki. He took it without hesitating. Katsura's eyes flickered down submissively at the question, back pressing into the counter further to try and put space between them. When Nakamura put a hand on his arm, Katsura let himself flinch. Turned his face slightly away.

Nakamura squeezed his arm. “My office. The usual time.”

“… maybe.” Katsura said. He still tried to sound stubborn, but he didn't sound as confident as he felt. Nakamura wasn't the only one who could act.

Nakamura chuckled before pulling away. He gave Katsura a once over before smirking, liking what he saw. He didn't say anything as he left. Simply unlocked the bathroom door and then exited with a glance over his shoulder.

Katsura watched him go.

With a deep breath, he considered the situation. Katsura spun around to look himself over in the mirror, hands on the counter to keep himself grounded. The left side of his face was bright red, bags under his eyes from sleepless nights. He gently placed a finger over the mark on his cheek, wincing as the pressure stabbed deep. It was probably going to bruise. But that was a minor price to dig Gintoki out of this mess. To dig them both out of this mess.

Katsura splashed cold water over his face, trying to clear his thoughts, trying to plan how to proceed. He kept his eyes closed, hands over his eyes while the water dripped from his fingers one at a time. He would show up to Nakamura's office later, as expected. Would either get his way or play his part. Nakamura had an eye for details, and if Katsura wanted to get the attention off of Gintoki, then Katsura was going to have to take his place. He doubted Nakamura would let him walk out of this without retaliation, so that's what Katsura decided he was going to do. Walk out of this. Take Gintoki's place, submit to the abuse, and then strike when Nakamura was least suspecting it.

Now, it was just a matter of time.


	9. You Can't Kill A Horse That's Already Dead, You Can Only Poke It With A Stick Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop reminder to read those tags but you're already this far so I'm sure you know what to expect.

The moment Hijikata walked into his bedroom, his cellphone began ringing in his pocket. The little mayonnaise jingle sure was extra annoying for once. With a sigh, he pulled his phone out and flipped it open, ignoring the caller ID because his hands were freezing and he wanted to hang up as fast as possible. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with a blanket and _maybe_ do some paperwork. “Hijikata.” He said in a tired tone, phone to his ear. He slid the door closed behind him.

“Yo.” Sougo said from the other end of the line. Hijikata could hear China hollering in the background. “Wanna hear something interesting?”

Hijikata sighed, pulling open the door to his closet. Did he want to hear something interesting? Not really? “Is it case related?”

“Boss isn't home yet.” Sougo said quietly like it wasn't important. “Think that's related?”

Hijikata paused, his blanket already in his hands. He was so close to just sitting down and warming up. Glancing over his shoulder to the clock on the wall, it told him it was just past seven in the evening. _Didn't_ _Gintoki_ _run an errand hours ago?_ “Where are you?”

“Getting ramen.” Sougo said. He slurped his noodles as proof. “Thought you'd like to know that the Odd Job kids are spending the night at the barracks because Boss isn't around again.”

“They're _what_?” Hijikata asked, eyebrow quirking. He pulled his blanket out, pinching his cellphone between shoulder and ear, using his foot to try and slide the door closed. “They can't sleep here, where are they going to stay? Why can't they just go to the Shimura's?”

There was arguing on Sougo's end of the line, Shinpachi winning what sounded like a fight. Shinpachi said, “We're sleeping there so tomorrow when Gin-san comes staggering home drunk, he'll think we've switched sides.”

“That's cruel.” Hijikata said weakly. The line suddenly beeped. Hijikata shifted the blanket into one hand, pulled his phone away from his ear to check the incoming call. “I've got to go. Yamazaki is calling. Might be important.”

“Hijikata.” Sougo said, after some shuffling to reclaim his phone. “Are you going out to do patrol tonight?”

 _Tonight?_ Hijikata doesn't even remember that last time he slept more than an hour. _But if Gintoki is missing… is there going to be a bomb tomorrow? Is that dumbass stuck in a tree again?_

Hijikata sighed eyes closed. “Probably?” His phone beeped again for another call. He was so tired. And annoyed. The line beeped again. “Why?”

“Good.” Sougo said. “Shinpachi can use your futon, and China can sleep outside like the dog she is.”

“I am not a dog!”

“Can you three be quiet!”

“Sougo.” Hijikata said as he settled down with the blanket wrapped around him. “Kagura doesn't sleep in your room.” It was a warning, one that Sougo needed lately. If Gintoki saw half the shit Sougo pulled with both of his kids lately – the aggressive touches, the things he was _saying_ – Hijikata would be down his first-commander. “I'll see if I can track down Gintoki, I guess. It's cold, he won't stay outside if he's smart.”

“Alright.” Sougo said simply before hanging up.

Hijikata sighed, finally answering Yamazaki's persistent call. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“Katsura just entered the Chop and Lop through the back door.” Yamazaki said quickly. “But he saw me, looked right up at me. He knows I'm up here.”

Hijikata's lip pulled at the corner. _Of course he knows you're up there because he brought the shop to my attention. What do_ _es he_ _want? What_ _is he_ _trying to tell me?_

“Should I stay and keep watch?” Yamazaki asked.

“Stay.” Hijikata said. “I'm on my way. If he leaves, track him.”

He hung up, flinging the blanket off of himself with a click of his tongue. _God, what a mess._ He was going to have to stop for coffee at some point, and he already knew he wouldn't make it all night. Was already running on empty.

This time, he grabbed a scarf and mitts before he left. The temperature had dropped significantly since Hijikata had initially escaped the kids, the forecast calling for more snow. _Katsura, you better make your move._

The second Hijikata arrived at the Chop and Lop, his undercover car toasty warm, Yamazaki called him once again. “Um. Hijikata. So. I sort-of kinda lost him...”

 

–

 

Yamazaki didn't go unnoticed.

Katsura stopped in the back alley to Nakamura's, his head turned up to the building that Yamazaki was hiding out on. He could see him in the dark, that bright yellow jacket blinding and completely obvious. He looked like a civilian, but Katsura knew his face. Making sure that he too was noticed, that Yamazaki knew that Katsura knew that Yamazaki was up there, Katsura hesitated before he entered the Chop and Lop through the back door.

In the warm hallway, Katsura paused again, noting the quiver in his fingertips just like the other night. He wasn't having a minor freak-out. He was fine. Maybe he was just cold. It wasn't like Nakamura managed to get under Katsura's skin in only a week. It hadn't been any longer than that, had it? The only person who wasn't fine in the same room as Nakamura was Gintoki, and Gintoki was currently safe at home.

With a deep breath and stubborn resolve, Katsura entered Nakamura's office with his chin held high. He wouldn't show weakness unless it took the attention off of Gintoki. That, he could justify. This was all his fault. He was just taking responsibility, even if it had started to pull him apart from the inside out. He wasn't a mess, he was Katsura.

“Katsura, my _favorite_ person.” Nakamura said, sounding annoyed. He glanced over to him from his computer, irritation present on his stupid face. This was already looking like a fun time. “Sit.”

Katsura considered defying him just for the sake of it, but he was really tired of this game already. Katsura sat down in the chair, back straight, hands clasped together in his lap. This was it. Katsura had changed his mind, his plan of action. Again. He was going to quit like this was some part-time job and whatever Nakamura did to stop that would only dig his own grave. If Katsura couldn't win, he could and would just flip the table.

Katsura wasn't worried. He wasn't. Not at all. That little shiver that passed through him, the one that had his knees shaking, was just from the cold. Totally. Gintoki was safe at home. The kids were safe stalking the police. Nakamura was out of blackmail, wasn't he? What was really stopping Katsura from walking out that door?

Oh right.

_Nothing._

“One of these days, I'll never have to do inventory again, because I'll be too busy riding this country of Amanto.” Nakamura complained like they were old friends, scrolling on his computer. He did some quick typing before turning away from it completely, facing Katsura, fingertips tapping together. “Alright. Rectifying the situation and showing your undying loyalty. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Nope.” Katsura said, dead-pan. He let the silence settle.

“Great.” Nakamura said sarcastically. “So here's the plan. I have a list of Amanto. All of them have cheated the law in some way. You're going to pick one, you're going to leak to someone that this Amanto's bad deeds have 'caught your attention'. And then you're going to bomb him. Understood? I want loyalty from you. I want initiative. You're a smart boy, Katsura. I don't need to hold your hand, do I? You get twenty-four hours.”

Considering what had happened earlier, Katsura wondered if this was a test. If Nakamura wasn't being specific and detailed because he expected Katsura to actually listen this time. Maybe Nakamura thought he'd spooked Katsura earlier in the bathroom.

Katsura wasn't fazed. “No.”

Nakamura actually looked surprised, eyebrows raising because he hadn't expected blatant defiance again. “No?”

“No.” Katsura said again. His hands tightened.

Nakamura chuckled. “We're really back to square one with this defiance? Do I need to pull out those photos again?”

“Yup.” Katsura said. He continued talking, a little quickly. “My answer, from the beginning of all of this, is still no. I'm not helping you get the Joui. You're not taking them.”

“You're backing out now? After we've come this far together?” Nakamura asked disbelievingly. “And what about Gintoki? What about those videos I have of him? The videos I have of you?”

Katsura shrugged. His face remained neutral despite the lies leaving his mouth. “What about it? Gintoki won't stand in my way. I will step over him just like I will step over you if I have to.”

Nakamura stared. He stared extra hard for a second before laughing. Standing up, Nakamura came around the desk, leaning against it right before Katsura, no more than inches between their knees. “Oh?” He asked, leaning forward, his fingers lightly tapping under Katsura's chin. Katsura remained tense. “Growing a backbone, are we? What brought this on? And here you were becoming so complacent with your position. Your sudden defiance won't change anything. I still have Gintoki, I still have tricks up my sleeve, _and_ I've already infiltrated the Joui. Why back out now?”

Nakamura's hand slid up the side of Katsura's face. Brushing over Katsura's cheek, his thumb smoothed over what was already coloring into a large bruise. When Nakamura pressed against it, Katsura's eyelids fluttered in pain.

“Just like last time, I'm going to give you to the count of three.” Nakamura said gently. “And when all is said and done, I'll show you the videos of Gintoki just like-”

Katsura stood up slowly. Controlled, he knocked Nakamura's hand away from his face. “You don't understand. You can count all night if you want to. Do to him what you want.” Katsura said. He sounded convincing even to himself. “You can take all of the videos you want and post everything online. You can keep him all week if you want. My answer is still no. I'm not helping you, and I'm leaving now. I've decided the game isn't worth playing anymore, because you're not worth anything. Beating you isn't even worth anything. You have nothing, Nakamura.”

And with that, Katsura spun around and walked away. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he could feel it in his temples as he walked to the door. Katsura just reminded himself that regardless, he was winning right now. Regardless, Nakamura _had_ to do something about this, and it didn't matter what he did, his next move would be in Katsura's favor. Even if Gintoki ended up taking the hit, it would be the last time because it wouldn't serve a purpose anymore. If it couldn't control Katsura then Nakamura would have to try something else. That's what this was about, wasn't it? Control?

“You can't just leave.” Nakamura said, from the desk. He sounded bewildered. “What about Gintoki?”

Katsura glanced to him, eyebrow raised. “What about him? He's a resilient guy. Looked pretty good when I saw him yesterday.”

Nakamura huffed. He looked surprised. “And what about his kids?”

Katsura left, his face devoid of emotion. He turned the handle to the hallway and closed the office door gently behind him. With a deep breath, Katsura waited for a second to gather himself, eyes on the back door to freedom, focusing on the shudder in his hands. His stomach felt like it was in his throat, threatening to remove itself from his body because what if he was _wrong_. What if Nakamura nabbed one of the kids, next time? Did Katsura just make a mistake? A huge mistake? Was Gintoki really at home? Were the kids really safe? Did Nakamura _not_ have a trick up his sleeve?

Sealing his fate, he was just going to leave. The only thing stopping him was himself, not Nakamura, not the threats to Gintoki. Sometimes, protecting people meant hurting them, and Nakamura had already hurt Gintoki enough. This should have ended days ago. Katsura should have offered himself up days ago. Katsura should have walked out that door the first time before Nakamura could sink his claws into him.

With a deep breath, Katsura cleared the hallway. With his hand on the handle to the back door, he hesitated before popping it open, expecting Nakamura to come running from his office for him. He felt hot all over, heartbeat thrumming. Instead of being chased down, Katsura stepped into the back alley on high alert like that very first night, eyes darting back and forth like someone was going to grab him.

He made it out of the alley undisturbed. Sketched out and borderline panicking, Katsura quickly made his way down the street, glancing over his shoulder suspiciously. He didn't even feel the cold. Worried about Gintoki, he suddenly wondered if he should drop in at Odd Jobs, make sure Gintoki really was still there. Make sure the kids were there, or at the Shimura's or at the Shinsengumi barracks. He wasn't sure if he had made the right move. He was doubting himself, the gnawing fear in his gut, the worry and stress telling him to turn around and go crawling back to Nakamura.

_He has me at check._

On the poorer side of town, Katsura retreated behind the closed doors of his own personal little house. It was the place he should always feel safe, but Katsura felt like the floor was moving every step he made. He wasn't exactly light-headed, but he wasn't exactly steady either. He was torn somewhere in between. Calm but panicked. Free with an invisible leash. Sick but healthy.

[Are you okay?] Elizabeth stood in the kitchen, sign held high.

No. Katsura was _not_ okay, but he remained silent as he passed by Elizabeth to disappear into his bedroom. Didn't even spare the duck-creature a second look. He couldn't. His thoughts were spinning dangerously out of control. He'd changed his own plan to fight back against Nakamura too many times, had forgotten how the story was supposed to go, had up and played a different tactic within a matter of hours. He was making mistakes.

He had vowed to fight, to one-up Nakamura until Nakamura ran out of tricks. Suddenly he was going to obey, to follow Nakamura's orders without retaliating, and take him out once given the chance. Earlier he was ready to submit, to trick him, to play this the easy way because he felt guilty that Gintoki had become the victim. Right now? He had decided to fight again. To one-up him, to use blatant defiance as a deterrence. Now he felt sick, ready to submit again. If Nakamura showed up at his door, right now, he might just cry in front of him.

Why, again, couldn't he just kill the man? Gut him like a fish and watch him slowly bleed? Because the threat against Gintoki and the kids were still there? Because Katsura wasn't _one-hundred and one_ percent sure the kids would be safe, following around the police, close enough to get help should anything go wrong on their end? Because Katsura himself was starting to feel _threatened_?

He slid the door shut behind him, gently leaning back against it with his shaking hands trapped beneath him. Eyes closed, Katsura forced his thoughts silent again, forced himself back into his increasingly unstable state of indifference. So what, Nakamura raised a hand to him? So what, Nakamura hurt him in more ways than one? If Gintoki would get out of it scratch free from now on, it was worth it. Katsura would bend to keep Gintoki and the kids safe, and the second Nakamura made a mistake, this would be all over. He wasn't upset. He wasn't losing control. He hadn't become an emotional mess over the past few days, ups and downs that made him ill.

There was a gentle knock at the door and his stomach turned over, a searing chill passing through him. Elizabeth's feet made a distinct noise against the floorboards, but Katsura didn't respond. He couldn't. Elizabeth would only knock once, and then she would leave him.

Instead of reaching out to her, he slid down the door with his eyes still closed, shaking fingers sinking into his hair. With his lips pressed tight together, he inhaled gently through his nose, reminding himself that eventually, all of this would pass over. This would not last forever. This was only a phase. Everyone was going to be okay. He would be okay. This was just his burden to carry.

His expression remained stoic, cheeks remained dry. But he sat there until he admitted to himself that he was losing.

 

–

 

Gintoki woke up groggy, his mind hazy and slow. Dryness had taken over his mouth worse than any hangover, his whole body thrumming with what he assumed was dehydration. His vision was blurry as he rapidly blinked, staring up at what must have been a ceiling. It definitely couldn't be the sky, he wasn't _that_ confused. After a few more blinks he realized that it could have been his ceiling for all he knew. But on second thought, he didn't think that was likely.

He had gone to get back his sword? Hadn't he? At the barber's shop that sounded like a butcher's shop?

Realization hit him like a truck – and Gintoki sure knows what it's like to be hit by a truck – and in a panic, he sat up. His head spun from the motion, eyes blearily darting around what looked like a regular living room. The couch he was on was pushed up against a wall, another mangy couch directly across from him. There was a coffee table littered with chip bags and full ashtrays between them, garbage on the floor. The walls looked old and dirty, the whole room smelled like mold and cigarette smoke. His wrists were bound in front of him with what felt like zip-ties. Glancing down, Gintoki couldn't help but wonder if three ties were considered overkill. He didn't even have his loaner sword, his hip bare. But everything considered, Gintoki was still fully clothed. His yukata was tied the way it was supposed to be, and his body wasn't suspiciously sore. He would count that as a blessing.

“Whoa, whoa, cowboy.” A man said, quickly approaching Gintoki when he entered the living room. He had short shaggy hair and age-lines on his face. Like a much uglier, squarer version of Hasegawa almost. “Don't get up so fast-”

Gintoki was on his feet in the next second in an attempt to run, his head spinning so violently that he didn't realize he had fallen until he was on his side on the floor. Gagging, Gintoki squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, heavily breathing past the wave of nausea. His heartbeat was thrumming in his ears, eyes stinging as his stomach settled. The room felt like it was still violently spinning, so he remained down, rolling over like a drunkard.

“Strong stuff.” The man laughed. He squatted down beside Gintoki, his hand dropping to his shoulder. It was heavy and warm and Gintoki wanted nothing to do with it. “Wouldn't get too active if I were you. It's gonna take more than a few hours for that stuff to completely wear off. You won't be walking straight for half a day, at least.”

After another inhale, after he stopped spinning, Gintoki pried his eyes open. He glanced up, glaring at the less than attractive man squatting beside him. “What stuff?” Gintoki asked, his voice cracking from his dry throat. It sounded like it had that very first day everything had gone wrong.

“It's Amanto shit. Hits real hard.” The man said with a laugh. He pushed Gintoki's shoulder until he rolled onto his back. Slinging his arms under Gintoki's shoulder and knees, the man picked him up like he weighed nothing, dropping him back on the couch. “Listen, kid, I don't think you're going to be very lucky tonight. The boss doesn't usually ask for conscious victims.”

“Boss?” Gintoki asked.

The man chuckled, patting Gintoki's shoulder. “Let me get you some water.”

He let Gintoki drink only a cup. Gintoki accepted the drink after hesitating, way too parched to decline. The man said that any more water and Gintoki would start puking. Gintoki didn't doubt him, his stomach was really upset as it was. But thirty minutes later, that dryness came creeping back into Gintoki's mouth. A headache had blossomed in the front of his skull, almost blinding in intensity. His stomach felt uncomfortably empty, and he was suddenly aware that they were waiting for someone.

He didn't really wonder who that _someone_ was.

“Hey, I need more water.” Gintoki said. He was still lying on the couch for the sake of appearances. He could probably get up if he did it slow enough, but his hands were tied and he was worried if he tried to make a break for it, he'd just fall again. His joints were oddly sore, muscles cramped like they had been straining in his sleep, and he wondered if this was the same drug Nakamura had used on him the first time.

“Sorry kid. No more water.” The man who hadn't introduced himself said. He was sitting on the couch across from him, casually reading a magazine. “Few more minutes.”

A few more minutes turned into fifteen or twenty. When Gintoki finally dared to sit up slowly, head the last to rise just in case, he heard a door open nearby, presumably the front door. Gintoki glanced to less-than-attractive across from him, gauging whether or not he could successfully escape. Weaponless, bound, and still a little fuzzy in the head, Gintoki doubted it.

The door to the main room slid open. Glancing over his shoulder from the opposite couch, less-than-attractive waved. “Yo. Long night?”

Nakamura stood in the doorway, nose crinkled as he eyed the state of the main room. But he stepped into the apartment anyway, his hands deep in the pockets of his pants. His face instantly made Gintoki's blood boil. “There were some _issues_. We're going to have some trouble in the near future. Let's just get this over with, I've got some steam to blow.”

“Issues?” Less-than-attractive clicked his tongue. “What did _he_ do now? If it makes you feel any better, the kid is awake and very alert, just like you asked.”

Nakamura and those misleadingly kind eyes. He finally glanced to Gintoki, a sad look crossing his features. “Gintoki. I apologize.”

“Fuck off.” Gintoki said. “Let me go if you're sorry.”

Nakamura sighed. He glanced to less-than-attractive before moving closer to the couches. He unzipped his jacket, shrugging out of it and placing it over the back of the couch. “Gintoki, I have my orders.” He turned to less-than-attractive. “Can you grab the camera? I want to finish before the others get here. I have a tight schedule right now. Be quick.”

Oh-ho. Gintoki had a bad feeling about this. Nervously, Gintoki got up from the couch, standing up slowly just as less-than-attractive got up too. Nakamura rounded the coffee table, one hand outstretched. He placed it on Gintoki's shoulder, easily shoving him back to the couch. His touch was gentle. Gintoki didn't trust it at all.

Demurely, and it had to be an act, Nakamura squatted down in front of Gintoki, glancing up to him. He waited until less-than-attractive disappeared into a different room to speak. His tone was hushed, soft and caring. “I really do apologize. All you had to do was let me take some photos and we could have avoided this.”

“Then take some now.” Gintoki said in a rush. “I'm already here and awake, you might as well. No need to get dramatic or anything. He won't know the difference.”

“He knows you weren't caught last time, and he's not happy.” Nakamura shook his head, hand placing on Gintoki's left knee. “I'm really sorry. You're going to remember it this time. I can't risk getting caught by Katsura. I might be able to get away with only photos next time, but you're going to have to work with me.”

 _Zura…_ Gintoki swallowed, but he didn't believe any of it. No way. There wasn't going to be a  _this_ time, let alone _next_ time. His wrists might have been bound, but he could still punch a guy in the face if he so wanted. And he tried. With all of his strength, Gintoki lunged at Nakamura, fists both aiming for Nakamura's shitty glasses. With a blur of white streaking across his vision from moving so fast, Gintoki's lunge somehow landed him on the floor, vision spinning again. Nakamura straddled him, Gintoki's bound hands trapped just above his head. Nausea was building up quickly.

Nakamura's left hand landed on Gintoki's chest, his palm rubbing over Gintoki's shirt, making small circles. His right hand clenched Gintoki's wrists like he expected Gintoki to fight. “Let's make this easy, okay?”

“I've got everything.” Less-than-attractive said, entering the room. He dropped a few items on the coffee table, but Gintoki didn't glance their way. He was trying not to puke, was squirming and shuddering, trying to break free. “Anything else?”

“He's a little too feisty for my liking.” Nakamura said, hand still rubbing gentle circles. “Get him a quarter.”

“Right.”

Nope. Gintoki jerked to the side, trying to yank his arms free but less-than-attractive was right there, shoving a tiny little pill into Gintoki's mouth. He pinched Gintoki's nose shut, his hand covering his mouth while Nakamura tried to keep him from thrashing. Gintoki fought with everything he had, pain flaring up his nostrils and his vision white as he tried to buck Nakamura off. Nakamura thought _this_ was too feisty? Was he pathetic?

The pill dissolved in less than a minute but they kept him held down for several more. Gintoki tried to spit it out, letting his saliva seep between his lips to hopefully keep the drug from absorbing into his system, but he doubted it would help. One at a time, they let Gintoki go, let Gintoki throw himself to his hands and knees and get up. Blood was rushing from his nose, his vision spotted and his head fuzzy. Saliva was dripping from his lips, his muscles growing heavy and limp. There was a whine in his ears, his breath coming out in harsh pants from the struggle.

They stood up with him, watching Gintoki stagger to the side like he was drunk. He certainly felt drunk as he keeled over, hands to the back of the couch, one knee sinking into the cushions as he tried to keep himself upright. His mouth was becoming increasingly dry, the frustration cracking his voice. “Why?”

“Sorry?” Nakamura asked, not quite hearing him, one hand going to Gintoki's shoulder.

Gintoki tried to shrug him off, ended up collapsing sideways onto the couch. “Why do you need to do this?”

“Gintoki hun, it's Katsura.” Nakamura said. With a hand to Gintoki's shoulder, he guided Gintoki onto his back. “This is _all_ Katsura. The bombs. You. Everything. It's not going to end here, either.”

 _No._ Gintoki groaned, head falling back against the armrest as Nakamura climbed onto the cushions. With his hands on Gintoki's knees, Nakamura pushed Gintoki's legs apart, settling between his thighs. Gintoki closed his eyes, his body going tense, his muscles unresponsive. Nervous energy was burning through him, he felt fidgety and sick, but he didn't have the energy to fight. It reminded him of sleep paralysis, just with a different kind of nightmare playing out.

The belts came off first and then Gintoki's yukata was pulled free. He already felt naked without it, his head rolling to the side so he didn't have to watch. Less-than-attractive took the yukata from Nakamura, throwing it haphazardly over Nakamura's jacket on the other couch. He then glanced to the two of them before he moved to sit down, a digital camera in his hands aimed their way.

Gintoki turned his head away, eyes closed.

His shirt was unzipped next, Gintoki's bound hands clamping over Nakamura's to try and stop him. His breath came out in heavy pants as his shirt was pushed open to expose him, Nakamura easily moving Gintoki's hands out of the way and making a show of it. He slid a hand up Gintoki's stomach, the muscles twitching beneath his palm. Gintoki bucked into him, a growl trapped in his throat.

His pants came next, and they were easily pulled completely off. Nakamura was lucky Gintoki was drugged. He was so damn lucky. Tomorrow, Gintoki was going to go back to the Chop and Lop with his loner sword, with a stick for all he cared, and break every bone in this man's body. There were two-hundred and six bones in the body, and Gintoki would be diligent enough to break _all_ of them. He would even name them as he went if he had to. He'd do his research tonight.

And then, in his imagination, he would go find Katsura skulking around somewhere in an alley. Katsura would look surprised, would greet him like normal, but Gintoki would grab him by his haori and slam him into the nearest wall. With a fist in the hair at the back of Zura's neck, Gintoki would pin him face first with his body pressed up against his, would demand an explanation. Gintoki _wouldn't_ really do this, of course. He would ask Zura _'what the fuck'_ calmly like a mature adult, but the daydream still happened. The anger was still there.

Gintoki spaced out, head in the clouds when Nakamura suddenly had slick wet fingers that traced a cold trail down the inside of Gintoki's thighs. Shivering, Gintoki pressed his face into the back of the couch as Nakamura penetrated him, a single finger quickly turning into two. Too soon, Nakamura's fingers were gone and he was sliding himself in, pushing hard and forcing himself to slip past resisting muscles. Gintoki arched silently with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth felt like they were cracking, head falling back onto the armrest with a gasp as Nakamura tried to mount him. His bangs fell back as his face turned upward, neck exposed. With his breath held, his bound hands gripped the corner of his shirt, blunt nails almost tearing through. He finally stuttered out two quick breaths when Nakamura finally broke him in, sheathing himself deep. Gintoki was still wound tight but he could breathe now, his body relaxing only a smidge as Nakamura gave him a second to adjust.

He only gave him a second.

Gintoki's moan was quiet when Nakamura pulled mostly out, the first drag on his insides searing. He was silent when Nakamura slammed back in, hitting him with a hard and relentless pace right from the start. Gintoki's eyes slit open to the ceiling, his body wound so tight he could feel his muscles straining just from resisting. He was panting within seconds, chest heaving. His jaw was sore, teeth still clenched, his hands balled into fists between them.

Nakamura gave one more thrust, one that had Gintoki's headache pulsating dangerously before he spilled. Warm and full, Gintoki kept his eyes slit open as Nakamura leaned in close to his face, his mouth right by Gintoki's ear. They were both breathless, but Nakamura had the energy to chuckle.

“Is he worth it?” Nakamura asked. Gintoki didn't know what he meant at first. It took him a second to consider Zura, to consider that he might have ordered this. “You're not done for the night, Gintoki. Next time, let me take those photos, alright?”

Pulling out, the trapped warmth rushed from Gintoki. Nakamura's semen spilled out of him, hot and sticky against the inside of Gintoki's thighs. It left him shuddering, his empty stomach flipping, his headache now a migraine. Nakamura's thumb brushed over Gintoki's bottom lip, his kind eyes watching them tremble.

Rolling slightly onto his elbow, Gintoki leaned his head over the side of the couch and puked.


	10. If You've Had No Impulse Control Until Now, You Might As Well Not Start

Two things crossed Gintoki's mind the second he was allowed to leave. And by 'allowed to leave', he meant blindfolded and driven to the same park he had been abandoned at the first time.

Two things crossed his mind as he leaned there on that park bench in the wee ass hours of the morning, again, staring up at the finger-like branches of the dead tree that had started to appear in his dreams this week.

One. He reconsidered breaking all of Nakamura's bones. At the end of the day, those broken bones might end up being Zura's. It all depended on his _excuse_ for all of this. It all depended on whether or not Gintoki could control the anger that washed through him, the feeling of betrayal because Zura, _Katsura_ , had _let_ this happen. Had possibly ordered it. It was possible Gintoki's anger was heightened by the drugs still running through his veins, and it was possible Nakamura was lying about everything. Hence why the broken bones _might_ be Katsura's. Gintoki needed to sleep on it. He needed to sleep in general.

Two. Gintoki shouldn't – probably _couldn't –_ but was totally going to hide this. With his head turned up towards the dark sky and his arms hanging over the back of the bench, Gintoki's half-lidded eyes stared as he debated on how to proceed. He needed a plan, because this time, he wasn't confident he could get away with lying about it. Otose might catch him going in again, and he didn't think he could excuse his appearance. What would he say to her? And the kids? What if they saw something they shouldn't? What would he say to them? Was there going to be another fallout? What about next time _this_ happened? And then there was _Katsura_.

Could Gintoki even explain this? He was pretty bad at telling other people things like this, pretty bad at confiding. He was feeling a little worse than the first time, significantly worse if he had to be honest. If Katsura had let this happen… If Nakamura was being honest about having to do it again...

Katsura, in whatever fucking way, was responsible for this. The betrayal hit him so hard Gintoki gagged.

Gintoki closed his eyes, glad his stomach was empty. His body was numb from the pain and the cold, the snow falling from the sky at a slow but steady pace. He was going to get hypothermia and die, and then his secret would be exposed anyway, so this whole debate wouldn't even matter. He needed to fake it until he made it.

He got up, extra slow and extra careful, trying to be mindful of every over-strained muscle in his body. He also didn't want to suddenly get hit with another dizzy spell. Nakamura had been the one to break him in, but the bastard had stuck around to watch six more men viciously take him. Nakamura had taken a second turn, been the last to go. By the time they were half done, Gintoki had already needed to be drugged again. He'd fought back every step of the way, and it hadn't paid off.

Gintoki shuddered at the thought, decided he didn't want to revisit any of those memories right now. It was worse than the first time this had happened, and if it weren't for the adrenaline still kicking through his system, Gintoki wasn't sure he'd be able to stand.

It was hard, but Gintoki made it out of the park with his thoughts focused on getting home. He was shaking like a leaf even with his yukata pulled over both shoulders properly. Every step he took threatened to leave him face first in the snow.

When he stopped to take a break halfway home, it was considerably lighter. He sat down on another bench, bent over with his head in his hands. A chill settled deep in his bones, a flighty sort of fidget starting up. It was the precursor to panic. The same feeling he'd had, standing behind Shouyou, his sword at his side.

No. Deep breath. He needed. He needed to go home. He knew what he needed to do.

Gintoki got up. Overwhelmed, he continued on his way. Before he really knew what he was doing or why, he was standing in a phone booth, his shaking hands digging through his pockets for change. His pockets were empty save for lint and the like, his wallet empty as usual. He was out of calm breaths. Gintoki's hand slid through his hair, gripping and tugging just enough for him to feel uncomfortable. He took a few moments with his eyes closed, took a few deep breaths to ward off the panic before he opened his eyes again. He was panting, not hyperventilating, which was good enough for now. He was… what was he doing? He was testing fate, he supposed. Spontaneous decision. He was good at those. Don't think, just do.

Okay. Problems. He had no money and he wanted to make a phone call. Did he really need to make this phone call? Did he need help to get home? Or could he push himself to the brink of death just to get through his front door? And what about Kagura? She shouldn't be home, she should be with Shinpachi. Okay. Okay. He needed to get home and the kids shouldn't find him half dead and looking like he had been… well. How far was he from his front door? Too fucking far. On a good day, it would take twenty minutes. As he was, it would take at least twice that.

Okay. No problem. He wasn't panicking. The drugs were supposed to make him calm. He was fine. Eyes closed again, pretending like his lashes weren't wet, he reigned himself in. Panicking wasn't going to help him. Panicking wasn't going to do anything except make this all worse. He was better than this. He was calmer.

He checked his wallet again, his pockets again, slower this time. In his haste the first time, he had missed a coin. That coin was all he needed. It seemed fate wanted him to make this call. With a deep breath, Gintoki shoved the coin into the payphone and dialed the number, not giving himself a chance to back out. What he was about to do was impulse. Perhaps instinct.

The other end of the line rang. He leaned back against the wall of the booth, the shake in his limbs doubling. His blood ran cold on the second ring, his heartbeat painful in his chest. When the other end of the line picked up, Gintoki couldn't speak. There had been a chance the call wouldn't go through. There had been a chance Gintoki would drag his feet home, would walk through that door and pretend he was drunk. There had been a chance he would get away with hiding this.

“Hijikata.” Hijikata sounded tired and pissed beyond belief. His irritation radiated through the phone to the point where Gintoki _almost_ hung up on him.

 _Don't waste this call! Don't hang up! Don't do it, you idiot! Wait! Take a breath! You're not a coward, just take a breath._ _You… you need to do this._ Struggling to not just slam the phone down, Gintoki clenched a fist, trying to speak past the block in his throat. How did people usually ask for help? How was he supposed to do this? He hadn't actually thought any of this out. Spontaneous decisions and all. Ha ha.

“Hello?”

“Hijikata...” He stuttered, teeth chattering all of a sudden. “Can I… can I get a favor?”

Hijikata hummed on the other end of the line. He sounded really irritated. “Odd Jobs.”

“I'm at the corner of… there's a… shit...” Gintoki breathed, hand to his forehead. He suddenly remembered that Hijikata was sort of really mad at him for lying. Hijikata thought he was up to something with Katsura, on top of that. _Katsura._ That guy. That guy was causing so much trouble for him-

_Don't think about that._

Chances are, the officer was _still_ mad. Hijikata sure knew how to hold a grudge. Would he even help? Did Gintoki waste his change? He only had a few minutes. He was probably just going to have to walk home anyway, why was he wasting his time with this call? Why would Hijikata help him? Why did he ever think he could share this? That he didn't somehow deserve this? Karma, right?

“Gintoki? Are you okay? Take a breath.”

No. No, no, no, he was not okay, he was panting again like he had just run clear across kabukicho as fast as he could. He needed to push forward because he wasn't turning back now. “There's. A smoke shop. Called Chimneys. And.”

“And a park across the street with a really ugly dead tree?” Hijikata asked. “A convenient store on each end of the block and a vending machine that hasn't worked in years?”

“Y-yeah.” Gintoki said, glancing out. He knew where he was. He knew this area. “Yes.”

“I'm on my way. Can you stay on the line?” Hijikata asked.

“No.” Gintoki breathed.

It was an anticlimactic ten minutes. Gintoki moved out of the booth after his time ran out, feeling a little claustrophobic, leaning against the store wall nearby. He was uncomfortable, cold and fidgety, and worst of all, he was going to dry heave again. His stomach was roiling, his head throbbing, eyes burning. By the time Hijikata showed up in an undercover police cruiser, Gintoki forgot why he needed the ride in the first place. Why didn't he just walk home again? He was fine. He was totally alright.

“Hey.” Hijikata said as soon as he was out of the car, approaching rather quickly. He took one look at Gintoki and then immediately moved in, hands going for Gintoki's shoulders. “G-Gintoki?”

Gintoki let Hijikata guide him into the passenger seat. The car was warm, so warm that it hurt when he got in, the door closed. Gintoki didn't say anything as he sat shivering, half aware that Hijikata had wrapped his own scarf around Gintoki's neck and lower face. It was dark, so Gintoki didn't know what Hijikata had seen. But judging from the look on his face, he had seen enough. Gintoki leaned his head against the window, his panic dissipating into numbness. Angry or not, Hijikata was safe territory.

“Are you… going home?” Hijikata asked. His voice was odd, but Gintoki couldn't exactly figure out what emotion it was laced with.

“Yeah.” Gintoki said. He was curled in on himself, the shivering violent. His eyes looked straight ahead and nowhere else.

Hijikata only glanced his way before driving off.

By the time they reached home, Gintoki was doing considerably better. He was still shaking, still cold as hell, but it wasn't as bad as ten minutes ago. He wasn't numb anymore, wasn’t struggling to breathe. Hijikata didn't say anything as they got out of the car. Gintoki didn't break the silence either, not even when he obviously struggled to get up his own front steps. Hijikata had a hand on his back to help him, the pressure warm and consistent and Gintoki had mixed feelings about that.

At the front door, Gintoki struggled to find his keys, his hands shaking through his pockets. He ended up dropping all of his pocket contents.

Hijikata scooped his wallet keys up from the snow, his face unreadable. “Here.” He said, unlocking the front door and letting them in.

Gintoki shuffled in, Hijikata right behind him. He still had Hijikata's scarf wrapped around his face to ward off the cold as he stopped in his entrance way, delicately attempting to kick off his boots. Hijikata turned on the entrance light, kicking off his own shoes. He didn't touch Gintoki, and he didn't say anything.

They shuffled further into the house, Hijikata leading the way into the main room. Gintoki followed him before he closed the door to the entrance hallway, leaning back against it. He rested his head back, eye fluttering closed for a moment to shakily sigh. There was a quiver rising up in his lungs, a tickle in his throat that refused to stop. It made him shudder, the feeling that washed over him overwhelmingly bad.

Hijikata paused by the couches, glancing over his shoulder at him.

He must not have looked okay because Hijikata stepped closer to him. His face was sore, body aching, and he knew there were marks. He could feel them all over just like the lingering touches and violent pangs. But without looking in the mirror, Gintoki had no idea how bad it was. He had no idea what Hijikata was seeing, what he was thinking as he stepped within a foot of him.

Hijikata's face was scrunched, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. His expression was a mix of concern and suspicion. “Where's your sword?”

His sword was missing? _Again?_ He hadn't even noticed.

He covered half his face with one hand, the sword just enough to overflow the bucket. Slowly, he slid down the door, his other hand going to cover the rest of his face when he choked on a cry. He slid to the ground, knees to his chest and face completely hidden as he silently started to sob.

“Whoa, hey.” Hijikata moved closer, dropping down beside him, hands awkwardly out in the air before one gently landed on Gintoki's shoulder. He didn't move it, didn't rub circles. He was just there, a safe presence that wasn't asking Gintoki for anything right now. He was there just in case Gintoki needed him.

Gintoki's moment passed rather quickly, his eyes running dry in only a few minutes. He didn't feel quite as overwhelmed anymore, it didn't feel like his head and chest were going to explode, but he still felt like shit. Actually, he possibly felt worse now, causing more problems than he needed to because he wasn't alone. Now, Hijikata was involved. Now, Hijikata would be burdened with knowing. _Isn't that why you called him in the first place?_

Sliding his hands down his face, he gripped the scarf in his hands, keeping it in place just over his nose. He kept his eyes on his knees, collecting himself. He should probably say something. Crack a joke maybe. When was the last time he cried? It was over the kids, wasn't it?

Hijikata was a solid weight at his side, his hand keeping Gintoki grounded. “Do you want some tea?”

Tea? Gintoki shook his head no.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. It was calm. Easy. Necessary. Until Hijikata finally broke it. His voice was even. Not patronizingly soft, but not demanding. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Gintoki automatically shook his head no. How was he supposed to explain this? Where would he even start? He glanced to Hijikata, not quite meeting his gaze, his mind turning the question over. Did he even know what he was caught up in? Could Hijikata even do anything? Did any of this even matter?

“Gintoki.”

Shuddering, Gintoki hid his face in the scarf. He called Hijikata because he trusted him. He called Hijikata because if someone had to know, if someone wouldn't be burdened by it, Gintoki knew it would be him. And yet Gintoki couldn’t even bring himself to speak. He'd told this man he's the Shiroyasha. He'd told this man about his most personal nightmare, about choosing between Shouyou and his friends. He could do this. He could tell him this too. Hijikata wouldn't judge him and Gintoki knew that.

With a heavy breath, Gintoki shifted. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the floor, accepting Hijikata's hand when he offered it because he was really sore and shaky. Without letting go, Gintoki pulled Hijikata behind him into the bathroom where he once again closed the door to the outside world like an extra layer of protection. Hijikata went with him easily, mouth shut and eyes locked on Gintoki.

Gintoki pulled the scarf down from over his mouth. He wet his lips, his tongue dry, eyes meeting the vice chief's. He pulled the scarf free from his neck before he could change his mind, kept it in his hand just to keep his fingers occupied. He could feel the bites burning back up the side of his neck in an angry trail. Less-than-attractive had been the source of them, had most likely been the source of them the first time too. Without thinking, Gintoki continued, pulling his yukata loose and unzipping the front of his shirt. He let his clothes hang open, a very _very_ nervous shudder passing through him. His torso was raw with scratches and bites, another over his nipple, patches of skin red from mistreatment. The bruises would form later, he knew. Black and aching. But it was enough evidence for Hijikata to figure it out. Between his behavior and the marks, Hijikata put two and two together.

“Shit.” Hijikata stepped in closer, his hands reaching out but not quite touching. Gintoki watched his face, Hijikata's expression twisting from shocked to downright angry. “ _Who?_ ”

Gintoki didn't answer.

“Can I touch you?” Hijikata asked, hands going for the edges of Gintoki's shirt. His fingers stopped just shy of the hem until Gintoki nodded his consent. Hijikata was careful to only grab the edges of Gintoki's shirt, pulling it open a little more so he could see his hip, the worst of the marks collecting along his waistline. It was already bruising, even. His face was unnaturally blank. “You… do you want to go to the hospital?”

“I would have called an ambulance instead.” Gintoki said.

Letting go of his shirt, Hijikata glanced up to him, his voice quiet but serious. “How many times were you assaulted?”

 _Eight times._ Gintoki swallowed, suddenly feeling very small. He didn't respond, and he doubted Hijikata expected him to.

Hijikata suddenly realized something, the emotion in his next question a little less controlled. “Is this the first time it's happened?”

Hijikata already knew the answer to that, so Gintoki gave him the truth. It came out bitter. “No.”

Hijikata's jaw clenched, the anger showing through, his next question impulsive. “And Katsura's bombs?”

Gintoki put a hand to his forehead, cringing like he had been struck. He didn't even want to hear his _name._ What did this have to do with that asshole and his bombs? Gintoki had no idea. It all came back to the bombs, didn't it? It all came back to _Katsura._

_“Gintoki.”_

“Not now.” He said, voice small. “I just...” What? What was he supposed to do? Hijikata knew now. So what? This had everything to do with Katsura. This had to do with the bombs. Gintoki had no idea _how_ , but he knew he was somehow playing a part in all of this. _Is he worth it?_ _What is the meaning of all this?_

“Okay. Okay. Listen. I won't ask any more questions right now. No more questions.” Hijikata said. He exhaled his anger, focusing on the here and now. It sounded like he was trying to slip into his work voice, trying not to be so emotional about it. “If you change your mind about the hospital, we can go later, okay? You don't have to decide right now. Not today and not even tomorrow, and I won't make you go unless you want to. Just. Just don't shower yet, okay? You need to drink something. You should also sit down, you're really pale.”

“Yeah.” Gintoki said, zipping his shirt back up with shaking hands.

“Go sit. Let me take care of this. I know you said you don't want tea, but I'm going to make it anyway. You need fluids.”

“Okay.” Gintoki said. He shifted away from the bathroom door, watching as Hijikata moved closer. Watching as Hijikata slid the door back open, movements automatic and choppy. Gintoki didn't need to be taken care of. He just… he didn't know what he needed. But Hijikata had dealt with things like this in his line of work, so Gintoki trusted his judgment.

Hijikata paused, not looking Gintoki's way. “Take a moment. I can't leave you like this so you're stuck with me for the night, alright? Just… come out when you're ready.” He waited an extra moment, eyes soft on Gintoki like he really wanted to make sure he was okay. He looked upset.

He closed the door behind him, quietly leaving Gintoki alone with his thoughts.

Gintoki placed a hand to his forehead, eyes closed. He took in a breath, considered the mess he was in, and then decided he wanted to wash his face. Like a fresh start or something. He would wash his face, clean himself up a little, and then he would change clothes. Something that didn't smell like mold and cigarette smoke. Suddenly he wouldn't be a complete mess, just a half a mess. And then he would go out there and drink his damn tea, and once he was feeling a little better, maybe he would give Hijikata some details. The who, where and the when. He might leave out the why, the how.

He wouldn't though. They wouldn't talk about anything serious because Hijikata wouldn't let them. They would lie on Gintoki's couches, a coffee table between them, watching extra cheesy movies. Gintoki would calm down until he was lethargic and drowsy, would glance over and catch Hijikata having a cat nap. But before noon, after the drugs fully cleared from his system, the painkillers wouldn't cut it. They wouldn't even come close. In just over eight and a half hours, blinded with pain, Gintoki would quietly ask to go and for Hijikata to stay. In nine hours, Gintoki would find himself in the hospital, wishing he could disappear into the bed sheets that were just as white as his hair.

 

–

 

 _[Found Odd Jobs. Keep the kids distracted.]_ The text had come in just after four in the morning. Sougo hadn't given it a second thought, had assumed Hijikata was either finally confessing his undying love or forcefully getting the information they needed on Katsura. Hadn't mentioned it to the kids at breakfast, too busy arguing with Shinpachi over Tsuu-chan and her latest album. Was she a masochist or a sadist? Or was she versatile? Shinpachi didn't like the topic at all, but that didn't stop them from discussing it. They were all so easy to rile up. Shinpachi was easily flustered, Kagura easily angered.

It was fun. An oddly relaxing day that was surprisingly productive. The Odd Job kids sure could clean and fix things. The barracks were looking better than usual with their help, the sinks all finally in good repair and that wall Sougo had busted last month was finally patched up. Sougo was actually starting to feel refreshed from this bombing case, which was ruining his sleep schedule. That was until the call came in just after three o'clock.

“Yo.” Hijikata said. He sounded beyond exhausted. Sougo didn't pity him, because it was his own damn fault for working so hard. He could have taken cat naps like the rest of them, but no.

“Yo.” Sougo said, moving into the empty hallway for a moment to take the call. The kids had long since been distracted in the mess hall, caught up by Tetsunosuke telling a wild story from yesterday about the loudest space ship he had ever seen somehow managing to discreetly land in a prohibited zone, and how it certainly belonged to the worst space terrorists known to mankind. Sougo had listened to it with half interest, before deciding the punk was either exaggerating or high as fuck.

Hijikata sighed. It sounded like he had bad news. “Are the odd job kids still there?”

“Of course. They're breaking and ruining everything.” Sougo lied. “You found boss?”

Hijikata sighed again. “Look. There's...” It wasn't like him to be at a loss for words. He paused long enough to make Sougo suspicious. “I need you to go digging for a case. Six or seven months ago, we agreed to help the regular police investigate a series of rapes because it might have been related to terrorist activities. The victims were abducted, held for twenty-four hours, and then released. They were called the Red Circle. The police had found proof they were recording their victims and selling the videos. Do you know what I'm talking about?”

“The zip-tie guys? Their trail went cold because they either got smart or spooked.” Sougo said. He remembered them, remembered the extra caution they had used to hold their hostages. Three zip-ties, every time. The Shinsengumi had abandoned the case, and the regular police had never updated them on it. “What did you find out?”

“Officially? Nothing.” Hijikata said, which meant he had found something out that would require them to _make_ evidence appear. “Yamazaki is still on his stakeout. If he sees anything, he's going to call you until I'm… free. I want you to dig out those files and dust them off.”

“Hijikata.”

“Keep the kids there. Keep an eye on them.” Hijikata said. His voice was strained. “If Katsura shows his face and Yamazaki calls you, you take the kids to arrest him. Do you hear me? You take them with you, and you don't let them out of your sight.”

 _Take the kids to arrest him?_ “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.” Hijikata said. “I also need a report on everyone employed at The Chop and Lop. I want names, addresses, middle school photos if you have to. Everything. A customer list if you can get it. Security footage might be a long shot, but it's not a deal breaker if you can't.”

“Alright.” Sougo said. He glanced back into the mess hall, his eyes narrowed. Tetsunosuke was still talking animatedly, hands gesturing wildly. “But only after you fill me in on what's going on. Don't leave me out of the loop or I'll have to get Yamazaki to spill. What does Katsura have to do with a barber shop and the Red Circle?”

Hijikata groaned. “We're figuring that out, dummy. I don't know yet. Yamazaki saw him at the Chop and Lop last night. He's definitely been swinging by the shop.”

“And the zip-tie guys?” Sougo asked.

Hijikata hesitated and for once, Sougo decided maybe he didn't need to know. “Just dig up those files. I need to confirm something before I start sharing ideas.”

“Okay.” Sougo said. Before he forgot, “What's the forecast for bombs?”

“Fuck.” Hijikata huffed. “Fuck, send some men out. If there's going to be one, it's going to be either tonight or early tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Sougo said simply, hanging up. It sounded like they were going to have a busy night again.

He returned to the mess hall, dropping down on the bench beside Kagura. Tetsunosuke was just finishing up his story, something about extra-alien Amanto coming to invade earth and intergalactic defenders here to save the planet. Not knowing how else to get the kids' attention, Sougo jabbed Kagura in the ribs so hard she yelped and automatically tried to decapitate him with her umbrella.

“What the hell was that for!”

“Kagura, language!”

“What the fudge-brownies was that for!”

“We have work to do.” Sougo said, fending her off. “Gotta organize the storage room. Hijikata's orders.”

They didn't need to specifically know what he was looking for. Shinpachi may have sent him a dirty look for picking on Kagura, and Sougo may have picked on him extra hard later. But they cleaned the messy room up, organized the files based on date, followed by alphabetical within those dates. And later, when the kids were too busy eating another free meal, Sougo went back for that dusty little file they had found somewhere along the way.

He stood in the storage room with the file in his hands, a bad feeling sinking in his gut. He'd keep Kagura and Shinpachi close, whether Hijikata wanted him to or not.


	11. Boiling Point

Katsura shredded the envelope Nakamura's bald-door-fuck handed him on the street. He stood there in the middle of the sidewalk just before noon like the sassy criminal he was and tore the letter apart right in front of the man's eyes. It was petulant, he knew. It was out of pure frustration and he knew it would come back to bite him but there he was, doing it anyway. He tossed the pieces away with a flourish and walked off with his head held high, shaking hands hidden in his sleeves. They were just cold. He didn't look back. Elizabeth had watched the scene unfold intensely, but she didn't ask him a single thing as she followed a step behind him.

Other than that incident, he spent the day jumping from Joui hideout to Joui hideout, collecting information. He wanted to know about the other radical factions, the other leaders. Which groups of Joui had worked together with which groups of extremists. Who knew Nakamura's men and where they came from. He talked to those who had come to him from other factions, lone criminals who had, in a sense, reformed and found a band of men to share ideals with. Those who had abandoned their old, radical ways for Katsura's more peaceful approach. Katsura wanted to know who was in charge of what, who knew which criminals, who knew about under the table sales of any kind and where they might have come from. He asked about Nakamura, Nakamura's father, their connections and the source of their funding. The positive response Katsura received on that topic was frustrating. He asked about the bombings, and who was up to do it. Was both impressed and irritated by how fast the men would return to their old ways just to follow him.

He was livid by the end. Frustrated beyond belief because he had no extra information on Nakamura except reassurance that he was damn good at getting his way. Nakamura's father had been an intense man, had ruled with an iron fist. No one got away with anything. Looked like the apple didn't fall too far from the tree. The father had made lots of friends – friends that he hadn't used for financial support, and it looked like Nakamura had talked his way into keeping those friends _and_ using them. It was good to know, Katsura supposed, but he couldn't use that to his advantage.

Katsura had cuts on his palms from clenched fists, his fingernails too long and his skin too dry from the cold. His face had bruised bad, black against stark white, the cold making it raw and extra achy. When asked – because he had been asked more than a couple dozen times already – he had eventually taken to lying about a fight with a Shinsengumi officer.

He was _lying,_ rolling over like a dog every time Nakamura raised his hand, and the sour taste that left in his mouth was downright revolting.

He passed by Odd Jobs around five o'clock just to check in on Gintoki, a bone-deep chill passing through him when he realized Gintoki and the kids weren't home again. There were footprints outside, leading up and down the stairs, but that didn't mean anything. It was better than no footprints at all, but they weren't cold hard evidence. Tama spotted him from the shop and waved, but he turned away quickly and carried on.

He went home after, just now noticing that Elizabeth had disappeared somewhere along the way. He was very aware he was having mood swings, his extra short temper capable of dissolving into a deep, pitiful ache with less than a moments notice. He'd snapped at Elizabeth twice before she'd disappeared, snapped at a handful of his men, and then had almost cried five seconds later when he saw a little kid fall in the snow and cut his head open. He hadn't been sleeping, which explained the mood swings. Hadn't been eating, which explained the fatigue and mental fog. He wasn't sure how he was still standing, but there he was, slamming his front door closed to the little house behind him with the energy he shouldn't have, blaming everything wrong with him on anything other than Nakamura.

He got ten minutes to himself. He changed into a warmer yukata. Washed his face. He had time to stare at himself in the mirror and contemplate if he was murderous or ready for seppuku before there was a knock at the front door.

Without Elizabeth home, Katsura risked answering it himself. If it was door-to-door sales, they were going home early today after he was through with them.

In his doorway, Katsura leaned against the wall and popped the door open only an inch, squinting outside. He didn't really get a chance to understand what was happening before it was too late.

Nakamura shoved the door open, stepping inside like he owned the place. Katsura took a step back, his hand on the hilt of his blade. His fingers wrapped around it comfortably, ready to draw at a moments notice. He almost tripped on the step, catching himself at the last moment before stumbling back into his entrance hall.

Nakamura closed the door behind him, casually kicking off his shoes like he intended to stay and he was allowed to do so. He glanced Katsura's way, a strained smile on his face. He looked more tired than usual, less composed. “Zura. We need to discuss your behavior.”

“Get out. There's nothing to discuss” Katsura said, his hand, unsteady, still on the hilt. Nakamura wasn't armed, had never been armed. Guilt wouldn't be one of the emotions Katsura felt if he ended up cutting the weaponless man down.

Nakamura shrugged out of his jacket, stepping up and closer to Katsura. With only a couple feet between them, he paused. He looped the jacket over his arm, his smile disappearing and his eyes taking on a dark expression. “How about you make some tea, and we discuss what's going to happen now?”

“No.” Katsura said. “Get out before you leave in pieces.”

“Just like your pet is coming back to you in pieces.” Nakamura said haughtily. His face was awfully void of his usual humor. He pulled out a manila envelope from the pocket of his jacket, tossing it Katsura's way. It landed on the floor between them. Katsura didn't even flinch. “That duck that follows you around? A very interesting specimen indeed. I didn't even know it could speak, let alone had a blade on it. Is that how you've been getting information across, sneaking around behind my back by sending your duck out to deliver messages? Is that why you've been so confident? No matter. We cut it up pretty good. It's not dead, but it's not coming back any time soon. Not that you care, right? You're only leading the Joui for yourself, and you're willing to sacrifice everyone who actually likes you along the way for them. Your friends are replaceable, aren't they.”

He was calling out his bluff. Katsura suddenly felt light-headed. Regardless, he didn't drop his stance, didn't back down. Elizabeth was a skilled warrior, a bizarre creature that had never suffered a fatal injury. She was fine.

“Gintoki had a shit night too, thanks to you. I got a lot of work done with him. He should be home licking his wounds for a couple of days if not the rest of the week. If you don't, believe me, you can go see, but I'd be careful. Never know what I told him, and who knows what he actually believes. I may have taken out more frustration on him than I intended.” Nakamura said, his tone emotionless. He moved closer, crowding Katsura's space. “Really, Zura. If you don’t care about your friends, then I'm wasting my breath and energy. The kids are next. They've been staying at the Shimura's residence because Gintoki hasn't been home, and he hasn't been home because he's been moaning under me. The dog is there right now, lucky for Tae, but Shinpachi and Kagura are not. We're just waiting for the right moment to grab them. All of them. Really, my work has been cut out for me lately. It's exhausting.”

“What do you want.” Katsura asked, slow and careful. He already knew how this was going to go. He ever so carefully relaxed his stance, fingers lifting from his blade. He intentionally moved back, opening space between them.

Nakamura huffed, moving with him, crowding back into his space. “I want to take a break from all of this blackmailing and manipulating, really, but I didn't expect to take over the Joui without working for it. You're really testing me. It's good for my growth as the soon to be leader of the Joui. Thank you. But at the same time, I'm getting tired. Do you understand? I need a vacation.”

Katsura glared, maintaining eye contact, backing up into the main room.

“I've cut down your pet just for the fun of it. I've fucked Gintoki senseless, and next time he's getting the hard drugs. The addictive shit that ruins his life. I'm tired of playing this game, Zura. I'm taking the kids, gee, they might have been taken already, are just waiting for my orders. I had a run-in with that robot at Snack Otose, so I'm considering new options for getting to the old lady. Robots are easy to take out, you just have to get a virus into their system. Contaminate her oil, no problem. Nabbing old ladies it pretty easy too, but they're so fragile. Never know when they're going to croak. Let's see? You have other friends too, like that woman who owns that ramen shop. Ikumatsu, was it? She's an easy target. That's just a phone call away from a disaster. She has no protection at all. Just a tragedy waiting to happen.” Nakamura said. He grinned, the humor appearing back on his face. “You're friends with the police too, which you thought was handy. Friends with the chief of police? Lucky he's out of the city right now, or some pretty suspicious rumors might have started. Hate to ruin his career. Hate to see him fall into the downward spiral that only you can create, Zura. You really bring the worst out of everything.”

“Stop.” Katsura said. He was going to be sick. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Nakamura asked. “Do you _really_ get it? Kotarou, if you got it, I wouldn't have had to go to this length. If you got it, I wouldn't have to sit here telling you all about the things I can and will do. I have a dozen videos of Gintoki. Twelve. Literally a dozen. They can all go online for pleasure viewing, maybe they all will. Can he live with that? Can he face his kids after that? You somehow managed to get your photos taken off the internet, but I will put them back up. That raunchy video of you will go online too, and I have more. I have so much more, Kotarou, I'm swimming in it.”

Katsura didn't know anything about the photos being taken down, but he wasn't going to admit that. “Stop.”

“That Amanto pet of yours can be sold. I know a guy who does space trade for creatures. That giant dog Gintoki keeps might disappear one day too, never to be seen again. You're making little girls cry now. What else?” Nakamura asked. His hand raised quickly, going for Katsura's jaw. Katsura flinched away. “I mean, if you're as easy to bend as I think you are, I could just abduct you for a day, see how you like it? Is that what I need to do? Use brute force with you, along with everything else? Or will you just _submit_?”

Katsura didn't resist as the hand clamped on his jaw, fingers squeezing.

“So I'm going to ask you _once_.” Nakamura said. “And I'm going to make it very clear what's at stake right now. If you tell me no, if you defy me again, Gintoki will end up with an addiction. His kids are going to be traumatized. Your little ramen romance is going to be over and an old lady will probably die.”

“I _get_ it.” Katsura said, eyes closing.

“Do you? Do you really?” Nakamura asked, lightly shaking his jaw. He sounded disbelieving. “Because you've told me you understand before and look where we are. You're pretending you don't care because you're out of options. You have no winning moves left, Kotarou.”

“I _get it_.” Katsura whispered. He kept eye contact, but it was wavering now. His back was in the corner, the leash pulled as short as it could go.

“You will stand down and follow my command?” Nakamura asked.

Katsura's voice wouldn't come out. When he forced it through, it came out weak. “I will.”

Nakamura let him go. Pushed him so that he stumbled a step back, those black eyes watching him like a predator. “Get on your knees.”

Shakily, Katsura slowly dropped down, eyes finally breaking contact. His hands clenched into his yukata at his lap. He felt like the floor was spinning beneath him. It sounded like Nakamura was underwater. It didn't really feel like he was here, in the now.

“What did I tell you yesterday? You have twenty-four hours to do what?”

Katsura licked his bottom lip. His mouth was dry. “Place a bomb.”

“And did you do it?”

“No.” Katsura stated, defiance accidentally ringing.

Nakamura's eyebrow twitched. “Give me your sword.”

Katsura didn't quite suppress a whine. He leaned forward, hands on the floor, trying to subdue the shudder that had taken over his body. If his stomach hadn't already been empty, it would have been now.

“I didn't bother harming you in the beginning because I didn't think it would be an effective approach.” Nakamura said. “But now I know better. You'll do anything for them, won't you? Give me your sword.”

Shakily, slowly, dreadfully, Katsura pulled it free from his belt. He kept his eyes on Nakamura's shoes, the scabbard gently being placed on the floor between them. Nakamura stepped closer, taking the toe of his boot and pushing the sword out of the way. It slid noisily across the floor, coming to a stop far out of reach in the middle of the room. He stepped closer again, forcing Katsura to sit up straight, his groin threateningly close.

“I think you can take a hint.” Nakamura said, his hand dropping down, fingers gently sliding into Katsura's hair. His clothed crotch bumped into Katsura's nose. “Show my your undying loyalty.”

He didn't even think about murder this time. Katsura was exhausted. This man was emotionally exhausting him in ways he had never been. With trembling hands and blank thoughts, Katsura reached up, slowly but carefully pulling his belt free and then the zipper of his pants. He hesitated, eyes glassy, but he decided to be quick about it. It was going to happen anyway. This was temporary humiliation. This would pass.

Within the next few seconds, Nakamura's already semi-erect member was in his mouth. Katsura knew basically what he needed to do, but he wasn't exactly good at it. He wasn't here to impress anyway, so he continued his basic ministrations, slow and careful until Nakamura's hand tightened in his hair. Katsura was pulled off, saliva dripping from his bottom lip, Nakamura's grip tight. He glanced up, suddenly worried. If he was bad at this, would someone else receive the consequences? Or would Nakamura just somehow use this against him too?

“You suck. Metaphorically.” Nakamura said. “Get up.”

The couch was their destination, Nakamura's hand never leaving Katsura's hair until they were there. Nakamura shimmied his pants further down his thighs before dropping heavily into the couch cushions. He sunk down into it, surprised for a second, but his eyes quickly sought out Katsura's. “Ride me.” He said, legs splaying open, his arms going to drape over the back of the couch. He didn't look satisfied or pleased, his eyes half-lidded in the same irritation from when he had barged in.

Katsura put a hand to his forehead, the spinning getting worse. Nakamura looked impatient, so he forced himself to get his hands in his yukata, refusing to take it off quite yet. Dropping his boxers, he extra-cautiously straddling the man on his own damn couch, one knee sinking one at a time on either side of Nakamura's hips. He settled over Nakamura's lap, his hands clenching the backrest and not the bastard's shoulders. Flickering down, his eyes were on Nakamura's groin.

“Know what you're doing?” Nakamura asked. He sounded amused.

Katsura hesitated, eyes going to the side. He didn't answer and he didn't move.

The yukata was pushed up to Katsura's hips, Nakamura's hand settling against his bare skin. He pulled Katsura bodily into him on his knees, his other hand guiding himself into place between Katsura's parted legs. Once Katsura could feel the wet tip pressing against him, Nakamura stopped.

“You might want to be quick about it.”

Katsura was pretty sure he _didn't_ want to be quick about it. There had been no preparation, nothing at all. He placed his hand to his forehead again, vision going white until he closed his eyes. His breath was shaky, vision spotty.

Nakamura sighed dramatically, making his displeasure known. “You're useless.” Three fingers suddenly found their way into Katsura's mouth, and then those three fingers ended up in his ass, one at a time. It was fast and rough, Katsura holding onto his couch with a death grip. Nakamura repeated the process, Katsura tasting himself and almost gagging the second time he pressed his fingers against his tongue. Once again, Katsura was guided into place, Nakamura pressing up against him and then waiting.

“Do it quick.” Nakamura said. He was staring straight into Katsura's eyes. “That's an order.”

Katsura couldn't really hear him, his ears ringing and eyes bleary. He started to sink down slow, to make sure it was going in before he quickly seated himself on Nakamura's lap. He moaned, leaning forward, arms refusing to support him. It hurt more than he thought it would and he closed his eyes. They were chest to chest, Katsura's heart beat much faster and louder than Nakamura's.

“I said ride me.”

He didn't know if he could. He took a full minute just to sit there, to adjust. His legs were shaking too bad for him to support himself, his arms not helping much either. His first few movements were jerky and weak, his breathing labored and pained. He rocked slowly, shallow, trying to regain his breath. Trying to keep his head level. Trying not to cry. He'd rather be forced down than do it like this. This was just humiliating.

Nakamura didn't have the patience to see him struggle. With a yelp, they switched positions, Katsura thrown on his back, head just below the armrest. His hair splayed over the couch, hands slapping onto Nakamura's shoulders and shoving him in pain from the movement.

Quickly, Nakamura's palm cracked over his cheek, the sting sharp. Katsura grit his teeth and turned his face away from him. He stuttered out a breath, surprised and confused.

“Whoops.” Nakamura laughed, his hand pulling away quickly like Katsura's skin had burned him. “I thought you were trying to fight me.”

Katsura didn't have the energy to respond to that.

Shifting to hover over him, Nakamura pulled Katsura's thighs up and around his hips before sinking painfully into him. “You can't even get this right.” He did it on purpose, sinking in hard. Continued to do so until he found all the wrong angles. As soon as he was content with Katsura's quiet discomfort, he started up a cruel pace. With an arm over his eyes, Katsura let him have his way. He kept as quiet as he could, teeth locked, his legs squeezing tight around Nakamura's lower back.

Not soon enough, Nakamura finished with a pleased moan, rocking through his orgasm. His glasses were slipping down his nose, dark eyes looking content and kind once again. Nakamura placed a hand to Katsura's cheek, wiping it with his thumb. “You tried.”

Katsura shuddered, arm still hiding his face.

“You're really no good at this.” Nakamura said, pulling out and fixing his yukata for him. He leaned in closer, pulling his arm away so his tongue could dab at the tears streaming down Katsura's cheeks. “But I really like this look on you.”

Katsura turned away again. Nakamura sat up, hands sliding down Katsura's legs and lingering on his exposed skin. Smoothing his hands over pale thighs, Nakamura leaned forward, teeth sinking into the side of Katsura's neck until he bled. He marked him just below the jaw, nipping and sucking until the skin changed color. He pulled back, tongue dabbing off a spot of blood from his lower lip. He grinned.

He got up off the couch, fixing his pants as he went. “I left you the list of Amanto in that envelope. You know, the one on the floor still? Pick one, pick them all if you want. You have your time limit.”

Wretchedly, Katsura sat up. His hair was a disaster, his face dreadfully pale. He looked in Nakamura's general direction.

Nakamura glanced over before moving in real quick, his hand going for Katsura's face. Katsura jerked away, eyes closing. Nakamura's thumb landed on the bruise, smoothing over it, looking incredibly pleased.

“You have twenty-four hours. That means tomorrow at, oh, let's just say eight at night. Give you the extra time to pull yourself together. I'd keep what just happened in mind.” Nakamura said softly. “Wouldn't go mouthing off if I were you. I want you in my office the second the bomb is placed. Understood?”

Katsura nodded.

“Out loud.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Nakamura said, his hand lingered a moment before he pulled back. Picking up his jacket off the back of the couch, he turned away. “I will overlook your shortcomings tonight. But just remember what I said earlier. There are no more chances after this. Any back-talking and I'll fuck you just like that. The stakes are all or nothing now. I'm calling checkmate.”

Nakamura stood in the doorway, sliding his jacket on. He watched Katsura for a moment, his smile back on his face. He didn't look so grim and irritated anymore. The beast looked sated and content. “I'd rest a bit. A little ache won't excuse you for being late, understood? And don't put anything on that bruise or I'll have to make it worse, okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Nakamura said, his smiling widening, showing off teeth. “I like when you agree with me, Zura. Tomorrow then, I will be seeing you in my office and I expect good news.” Pausing, he looked Katsura over. He really liked what he saw.

Katsura didn't move. Not even after Nakamura left. He sat there, staring at the door for a moment before lying back down on his side. Facing the back of his couch, his eyes were slit open and still leaking tears. He didn't feel bad for himself, he'd had the chance to stop this and he'd messed that up by playing too cocky. He was worried about Gintoki right now, about the kids. About Ikumatsu and Elizabeth. Katsura's hand slid over his face. He curled into himself. This was just karma from the war coming back, wasn't it? He'd always made the wrong turn in life, always made the wrong choice given the chance to live like an honest man, and this time was no different.

Openly sobbing, Katsura knew he'd had his chance to end this before it began, and just like everything else, he'd fucked it up.

 

–

 

“Are you sure you're feeling okay?” Hijikata asked the second they were in his car. It was almost midnight, Hijikata physically and emotionally drained from an entire afternoon spent in stark white. He could only imagine how Gintoki was feeling. He didn't blame Gintoki for wanting to leave; he didn't like hospitals either.

Gintoki deflated into the passenger seat the second the door was closed. He looked completely worn out, and Hijikata didn't blame him. He'd needed too many stitches, had been swelling in places he shouldn't be swelling, and the drugs had kicked him a little too hard. Somehow, this idiot had talked his way into getting discharged early as long as Hijikata stayed with him. He'd even managed to get a pudding cup for his efforts.

“I really want to go home.” Gintoki said, eyes closed. He had a hand to his forehead, not from a headache, finally, but from exhaustion. Gintoki hadn't given up much information. There was the obvious, the things he couldn't hide. He'd been assaulted more than once and it had been aggressive. At least one of them hadn't worn a condom, which meant there was evidence just waiting to be discovered. He'd been subdued with drugs more than once. He wasn't pressing charges, had almost refused to get swabbed, just didn't want to deal with this at all.

 _Tomorrow._ _Talk to him_ _tomorrow. We both need to sleep._

“Okay. Let's get you home.” Hijikata said. He took him home and made more tea.

Gintoki stood in the entrance to the kitchen yawning, layered in thick pajamas. He blinked blearily at Hijikata for a second, his dead expression more dead than usual. The samurai had been understandably quiet for the majority of the evening, and Hijikata doubted they'd breach anything serious any time soon. So standing at the stove, with the kettle coming to a boil, Hijikata only raised an eyebrow when Gintoki remained rooted in the doorway, mouth shut.

Coming to a decision, Gintoki bashfully looked away, a hand scratching at the back of his head. “Thank you.”

Of course. Hijikata didn't chastise him for the unnecessary thanks. He didn't click his tongue even though Gintoki didn't _have_ to thank him. What were friends for? “You're welcome.” He said instead, turning back to the kettle. Gintoki shouldn't feel in debt over something like this, this never should have happened in the first place. “Get some sleep. I can't keep your kids leashed forever. They'll probably be here first thing tomorrow, Sougo's bad at keeping his mouth shut.”

Gintoki chuckled, the sound sad. He didn't quite meet Hijikata's eyes. “Not sure what I should tell them.”

Hijikata half turned, suddenly realizing that Gintoki had been lying to _everyone_ about all of this right from the beginning. “You won't tell them the truth? Or even a smoothed over summary of the truth?”

Gintoki looked like he was considering it. But he shrugged. Split a stupid grin because he was trying to lighten the mood. “Looks like I got into another bar fight, maybe.”

“What did you tell them last time?” Hijikata asked, before remembering Kagura stating that he had gotten drunk to sleep with pretty women. He also remembered Gintoki telling him that _he'd made a mistake._ He'd gotten drunk and had gone home with someone. It had been a bad call.

If only Hijikata knew then what he knew now.

“They told _me_ what I went out and did.” Gintoki said. “I got drunk and slept around. They weren't wrong, but they weren’t right. I never agreed or disagreed. They made up the story, and I let them have that.”

Hijikata clicked his tongue at that response, just as the kettle began to whistle. He turned away. “We're not continuing this conversation right now. Go to bed. None of this was your fault, and don't you think you deserved this.”

Gintoki sighed.

Hijikata glanced up to the ceiling, looking for patience and calmness and the wisdom of words. Gintoki didn't need him getting mad right now, but Gintoki needed to understand this _wasn't_ his fault. Absolutely not. Turning around with the kettle in his hand, Hijikata stared. “You _didn't_ deserve this. You know that right?”

To Hijikata's surprise, Gintoki cracked another smile. “I wasn't sighing because you're wrong.” He said, finally turning away. “I know I didn't do anything to deserve this. I surprisingly didn't even egg them on, I told them no. It's not my fault.”

Hijikata, standing like an idiot with the kettle in the air, opened his mouth but stuttered. He followed Gintoki out of the kitchen, both impressed with Gintoki's acceptance and concerned. “Then why were you sighing?”

“Good night.” Gintoki said instead of answering, waving over his shoulder. “One couch is softer than the other couch, by the way. Good luck finding the right one.”

“The farthest from the door, right?” Hijikata asked. “The one you're always sleeping on?”

Gintoki glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “Yeah, that one.”

“Okay stop talking. Go sleep.” Hijikata said. Shooing him with his hand, he turned back to the kitchen. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

It was quiet after Gintoki disappeared into his room. Too quiet. Hijikata poured water into his caffeine-free tea, eyes on the cup. He set the kettle down, staring at the steam rising from the liquid. He was going to try and sleep after he drank this. They'd had a long day, after all. He was just glad, so damn glad, he had answered that unknown number. He'd almost ignored it. _Almost._ Gintoki had trusted him enough to call and it was possible this would have gone on longer than it had.

Hijikata rubbed at his eyes. Tomorrow, the kids would be by. Sougo too, if he took Hijikata's words seriously. Hijikata needed to check that file for a certain piece of information, get an update from Yamazaki, and then proceed from there. He felt like all of the puzzle pieces were on the board now, just waiting to be finally joined together.

Speaking of Yamazaki, his phone began to ring. Hijikata answered it immediately, the ring tone way too loud in the silent house.

“Hijikata.” He said quietly, eyes still on his tea.

“Yo.” Sougo said, to Hijikata's surprise. “You planning to sleep? Ever?”

“Is that concern I hear in your tone?” Hijikata asked.

Sougo laughed. “Of course not. Just wanted to give you an update and run something by you.”

“An update on what?” Hijikata asked, suspicious. “Did Yamazaki call? Is there any news?”

“Nope, no news.” Sougo said. “Shinpachi didn't like my attitude, so he and Kagura decided they weren't going to spend the night again. We cleaned out our file room and then China decided she'd had enough of police work.”

“That's it?” Hijikata asked. “They went home? That's the update? I thought I told you to keep them there, to keep them close?”

“You did, but next time _you_ can try convincing China she needs to stay somewhere she doesn't want to stay. I walked them here.” Sougo said. _Here?_ “They're being followed. There's three of them, watching and waiting outside. One of them followed us all the way here, one of them was already lurking around the entrance, watching the grounds, and another just showed up about an hour ago. Can I arrest them for suspicious Joui activity? Sneaking around in the middle of the night, the exact spot we were looking out for Joui earlier today?”

Sougo totally made that last bit up, but Hijikata wasn't going to call him out for it. Better safe than sorry, especially given what had just happened to Gintoki. Hijikata didn't know if this had to do with Joui or another faction, but he didn't want to take any chances. Even if it was Sougo. “You can't arrest them for that, they're just being creepy right now.” Hijikata said. “Are you outside watching them watch the Shimura's? Who's the real creeper here?”

“Ha, is it time for jokes like that?” Sougo asked. “My hands are freezing, I didn't expect to be out here this long.”

“Then go inside and tell Tae.” Hijikata said. “Stay with them. Any trouble, you call for backup immediately. Something is really fishy right now, and I think it might be the Red Circle. If we're going to catch these bastards red-handed, we need to wait.”

“Alright.” Sougo said after a moment's hesitation. “Oh, and that file is also waiting for you on your desk. Can I ask...?”

“No.” Hijikata said. “Call me once you have an update.”

“Sure I guess.” Sougo said before hanging up.

Hijikata switched his phone to vibrate, eyes still on his tea. What the hell was the link between sex videos, Katsura's bombs, a barber shop, and Gintoki?


	12. Two Heads Are Just As Effective As One Sometimes

Sougo didn't call with an update. Hijikata wasn't sure if he should be concerned or frustrated, staring at his phone in the wee hours of the morning like if he looked hard enough he could force a notification to pop up. He'd made more tea, had quit trying to sleep and decided to quietly watch TV in Gintoki's living room. But he was getting fidgety. He wanted that file he'd ask Sougo to dig up, he wanted to jump right back into this mess of bombs and Gintoki's mysterious disappearances. He wasn't sure what he was going to find, but he felt like it was going to all be clear very soon. The pieces were all right there, floating around him.

Sougo wasn't answering his text messages either, the idiot. What was he doing? Yamazaki's last update on the Chop and Lop had been signed with _anpan_ , and Kondou was still… where the hell was that guy? He was probably having drinks with Matsudaira. Or, because Hijikata had faith in him, Kondou had been sidetracked with more important work and was still busy elsewhere.

He needed those files. Staying at Gintoki's wasn't a huge problem, but if he was going to stay, Hijikata wanted – needed – something to do. Not really having anyone else to bring him the files, seeing how Sougo was currently MIA, he called Tetsunosuke. If that kid wanted to be more useful than the rigid Sasaki Isaburo, then he would answer his phone at four AM and bring Hijikata his files, and maybe a Moonbucks with extra whipped cream.

He had to call twice, Testunosuke answering just before voice-mail kicked in. He sounded disgruntled and tired and – Hijikata _knows_ why the kid became a cop, but _still_. Talk about unprofessional. “Yo, yo. It's so early, my dude.”

“I need you to bring me something.” Hijikata said. “There should be a stack of files on my desk. I need the whole stack delivered to me as soon as possible. As in, right now.”

“Whoa, yo, is this about that massive space ship I saw? The super cool one full of alien-slaying terrorist defenders?”

What was the kid going off about? “No.” Hijikata said, eyebrow twitching. “I'm sending you the address. You're the only one free to do this. Can I expect you to be prompt?”

“Alright, my man.” Testunosuke grumbled, but his voice perked up. “I will do my best! Be there in a jiffy!”

Hijikata hummed, rolling his eyes. He hung up, glancing over to Gintoki's bedroom door before turning back to his phone to text Sougo _again_. He wouldn't drag Gintoki into this if he could avoid it. It wouldn't be the first time the Shinsengumi turned a blind eye to Gintoki's involvement. Hell, the Shinsengumi had turned a blind eye to the Amanto and their _habits_ for the majority of their career, why would this be any worse? If Gintoki was involved for the right reasons, if Gintoki really wanted to keep his name out of this, he was going to have to cooperate.

Hijikata was still just trying to figure out what the link was between sex videos, bombs, a barber shop, and Gintoki. The most logical approach was that the sex traffickers were working out of the barber shop, but then what was the connection to Katsura and Gintoki? But Gintoki was the one sporting the Red Circle's signature, Gintoki was a victim. Katsura had been purposely seen at the Chop and Lop, and Katsura had sent Hijikata that message directing his attention to the shop. What the hell was the link? It didn't make any sense.

 _You know that parfait we share?_ _Yeah w_ _ell, it's melting._ _Maybe try moving it out of direct sunlight for once instead of just waiting_ _for the weather to change._

Was Gintoki collateral damage? Hijikata suddenly paused, eyes on but not reading the message he had constructed for Sougo. _If_ _Zura_ _knew Gintoki was falling apart, why wouldn't he step in to help him? Why would he send the message to me, of all people?_

Hijikata knew they were more than just old war buddies. They had grown up together, were possibly very, _very_ close. Close enough to confide in each other. If the roles had been reversed, if Gintoki was taking heat that could melt him because of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata would only reach out to Katsura if there was nothing Hijikata could possibly do to protect him. If Gintoki couldn't protect himself either. If he felt like he was backed into a corner, Hijikata would trust Zura to take care of Gintoki. _The kids have been at the barracks ever since they brought_ _me_ _that letter._ _Zura sent them letters too._ _They haven't left police view. They've been either with me or Sougo, and it turns out the_ _re_ _ar_ _e people watching the Shimura's._

Something must have gone wrong, and Katsura _knew_. Hijikata's eyes narrowed, hand tightening on his phone.

Gintoki must have been collateral damage. It was possible Gintoki didn't even know what was happening. If the Red Circle was involved, none of the victims remembered anything after being abducted, half of them didn't even remember _being_ abducted. But why? How would Gintoki end up as collateral damage?

 _Did the Red Circle abduct Gintoki_ _without knowing who he was_ _? Did Katsura find out and step in to avenge him? No, because the bombs-_ The first bomb hadn't been Katsura's, evidence had proved that. The second and third _had_ been his, but the kids said he didn't place them. It made more sense if Katsura did place them. The evidence made sense for a revenge plot. And then the problem with that idea was: how the hell did the barbershop fit in?

What the _hell_. Maybe he was making this more complicated than it was?

The second Tetsunosuke got there, Hijikata violently slid the front door open. He accepted the stack of files eagerly and shuffled through them to make sure the ones he wanted were present. He spotted everything he was looking for, a content sigh leaving him. At least the kid was mostly hassle-free, which was better than Sougo and Yamazaki combined. Tetsunosuke looked a little rumpled from the early morning, smiling bright, clearly waiting for praise for being so quick to deliver.

“Thank you.” Hijikata said, turning away. Tetsunosuke didn't arrive with Moonbucks, but he didn't care. He was piecing this shit together and he was doing it right now. Any loopholes, he'd bounce them off Gintoki and just pray the idiot would tell him the truth. “Have you seen Sougo?”

“The first commander?” Tetsunosuke asked. He thought carefully. “I saw him last night. The little shrimps he had with him quit cleaning for him. He threatened to buy all the pickled seaweed in Japan to get them to stay, but ended up just taking those shrimps home.”

Hijikata sighed. He just hoped their fighting hadn't gotten too out of hand. “He didn't call? Didn't come back with them and a few extra? And a dog?”

“Nope. Sorry, haven't gotten any news except there's Joui activity tonight and another home invasion. Yo, yo. Anything else you need me to do? Seeing how it's not even daylight and I'm awake?” Tetsunosuke asked. “What ya trying to do? Make me a respectable adult?”

Hijikata paused in the doorway, glancing to the kid. He raised an eyebrow. “Joui activity?”

“Yes sir!” Tetsunosuke said. “Uh, I overheard a couple of dudes this morning when I was sneaking some early breakfast before I left. Sounds like we're spread thin over the city. Lots of activity started up a few hours ago.”

 _These guys and causing trouble at three in the_ _damn_ _morning._ _Why the witching hour?_ _But enough trouble to spread our forces thin?_ Hijikata felt a headache going on. This sounded like bombs, lots of bombs. “Can you get me more information on the Joui activities? I want a detailed report on where, when, and how much, emailed to me within the hour. Has Katsura been spotted?”

“You can count on me!” Tetsunosuke said. “And, uh, no way dude. That big name guy? Haven't heard anyone mention him.”

“And what was that about home invasions?” Hijikata asked. _What the hell is going on in this city? Is Katsura breaking and entering now?_

“Uh, something about the regular police dudes getting in the way of tracking Joui. There was a home invasion. Apparently, this is, like, the second time this week.”

He was just talking, this Tetsunosuke kid. Talking about other unrelated cases and distracting Hijikata from his job. “Thank you.”

Hijikata sighed, sending Tetsunosuke off. He closed and locked the door the second the kid left. He walked into the main room like a respectable adult, before immediately sitting at Gintoki's desk and diving into the paperwork, starting with the old dusty file on the Red Circle. He turned on the lamp, quickly tidying up Gintoki's disaster, before going through his own files.

He was halfway through the folder with nothing interesting popping out when he paused with thought. A sudden realization, based on something Tetsunosuke had said.

The Red Circle wasn't a huge threat, in the grand scheme of things. They were extra careful and cleaned up after themselves. A big problem, yes, but they didn't kill, they didn't even sell their victims. They simply abducted, drugged, and recorded them before leaving the victim in public to deal with the aftermath. They weren't big scale, high risk. They mostly distributed other homemade videos of the same nature, had taken over like a black-market Betflix. There was, on average, one victim every couple of months coming to the police to report an incident, and these victims had all been low-middle class. Pretty people, male and female, but not high-risk. Why would they get involved with someone like Katsura, then? Suddenly go high-risk?

The answer was simple. They wouldn't. They wouldn't get involved with Katsura, and why would Katsura get involved with them, besides to shut them down? Katsura had indirectly helped bring down the crime rate, but only when it stood in his way, when people pissed him off. There was only room for one big fish in the sea, and that fish was the Joui. If the Red Circle had abducted Gintoki, Katsura would have already dealt with them. Hijikata doubted he would have had a problem.

He'd been distracted by the Red Circle. Realistically, he could be looking at one member for the zip-tie marks, or even a copycat. Someone borrowing effective ideas and misleading the police.

Hijikata closed the file, leaning back in Gintoki's office chair. This was like Katsura's bombs, the evidence looked like it made sense, but it was all wrong. Reviewing the facts wasn't going to tell him anything. It looked like the Red Circle was involved because of the drugs and the zip-ties, but the Red Circle wouldn't have abducted Gintoki more than once. Gintoki hadn't been cleaned after the assault like the other victims, and someone had left behind evidence like they _knew_ Gintoki wouldn’t go to the police. It was like the Red Circle had changed their MO, gotten careless and eager. Which meant: it wasn't the Red Circle.

And Katsura's bombs. The first bomb had been damn close to Katsura's work, but evidence had confirmed it lacked Katsura's finesse. A copycat, or just a sloppy job? The second and third bombs had been Katsura's, no question, but the reason behind them hadn't been clear. Katsura's bombs were always meaningful, had always made a statement. His casualty count had been zero for years now, his bombings low-scale, more like aggressive pranks serving to frustrate the police and send warnings. It was like Katsura had suddenly changed his MO too. Had suddenly gotten disorganized and rushed. Desperate. Which meant: it wasn't Katsura.

Gintoki was abducted in the manner of the Red Circle. Approximately twenty-four hours later, Katsura detonated a bomb, whether Gintoki was successfully abducted or not. Right now, Joui activity was on the rise, and Hijikata didn't doubt he'd be getting the call. Another ambassador. Another embassy. An entire block, for all he knew. Bombs.

Hijikata glanced to Gintoki's bedroom door, staring because he had been so blind this whole time. _He threatened to buy all of the pickled seaweed in Japan to get them to stay._

Pushing aside the file on the Red Circle, Hijikata picked up Sougo's report on the Chop and Lop. The link was in there.

 

–

 

At ten o'clock, Gintoki finally got up. He felt pretty damn good, all things considered. The pain was minimal, would be gone after a pain killer. He didn't have a headache, which was also a very good sign. And the kids hadn't come barging in, screaming at him and giving him a headache yet. He was good. Good to go. Ready to fight another day.

It was easier with Hijikata.

Shuffling through his bedroom door with a huge yawn, he paused in the main room to glance over Hijikata sitting at his desk, pouring over way too many files at once. He was dressed down, the vest hanging open and the jacket missing. Suddenly suspicious, Gintoki ambled closer to the desk, glancing down at the papers strewn all over. “Did you work all night?”

“All morning.” Hijikata admitted. He picked up his mug of coffee – where did he find coffee in this house? – glancing up to Gintoki with tired eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Probably better than you.” Gintoki said, his eyes scanning over the contents of pages. He wasn't lying. _Oh._ He had a feeling they were going to be talking about this. He'd better prepare himself. “Did you sleep at all?”

“A little.” Hijikata admitted, eyes back down to the files. “Had a nap, but something was bothering me, so I had my files brought over.”

“Oh.” Gintoki said. “Well. I'm going to get dressed.”

He went through his morning routine intentionally slow. He showered carefully, finally cleaning the filth off him. He brushed his teeth extra slow, savoring the strawberry toothpaste, the clean feeling in his mouth. He dressed in his usual getup, deciding to be indifferent towards the bandages wrapped all up his arms and neck. Hiding them would make him feel guilty, and he didn't need that.

When he exited his room feeling pretty damn great, way better than yesterday, he didn't expect to find Hijikata in the kitchen trying to make breakfast. The kettle was going again – how much tea did this guy drink? – a frying pan and the rice maker in the process of cooking something up. Gintoki lingered in the doorway, deciding he liked the way Hijikata looked in his messy kitchen. It even smelled good. All he needed was an apron and a less disgruntled expression.

“Are you just going to stand there all day?” Hijikata asked, sensing Gintoki's presence. His tone was weird. It was more than just tired. “Or are you going to come help?”

“Nah, you look like you have it under control.” Gintoki said, flashing Hijikata a shit eating grin the second the vice chief glanced over his shoulder. He did help though. Sauntered in and made sure he was in Hijikata's way the whole time, bumping arms and accidentally dropping eggs.

They ate in companionable silence. Gintoki sucked back his plate like a starving man and Hijikata had the decency not to comment. When Gintoki had collected the dishes and left them in the sink for Shinpachi, he decided to ask. He was back in his living room, settling himself onto his favorite couch while Hijikata retreated back to the desk to slave over the paperwork some more.

“The kids come by yet?”

“No.” Hijikata said. There was something in his tone again, something that made Gintoki uncomfortable.

Gintoki laid down, pulling his JUMP out from underneath the couch. He glanced to it, suddenly feeling a little fidgety. “Are they coming by?”

Hijikata sighed. Gintoki heard Hijikata get up from the desk, his rolling chair scooting back. He brought a file with him and sat down at the couch across from Gintoki, letting the folder drop on the table between them. Gintoki got the message. He sat back up facing him, JUMP being placed beside him as Hijikata leaned back against the couch and sighed. He crossed his arms before fixing Gintoki with a stern look.

Oh. This didn't look like it was going to be fun.

“Here's the deal.” Hijikata said. He was using his stern no-nonsense tone, but his eyes were gentle on Gintoki. “Every time you disappear under _mysterious_ circumstances, Katsura sets off a bomb. The time between you and the bombs going off is getting longer, but the number of bombs is increasing. Do you see my dilemma?”

_Shit._

“There have been three more bombs since this morning, I have no idea how you slept through one of them.” Hijikata said. “The casualty count is very high. They went off at six, seven-thirty, and nine this morning. It's been just over twenty-four hours since you called me. I can't just ignore a link like this. Do you _see_ my problem?”

Gintoki didn't respond. What the hell was he supposed to say? He knew it looked suspicious, and there was honestly nothing he could tell Hijikata. What did he know? Probably no more than what Hijikata knew. He knew Katsura was involved. And he knew he was being targeted. But what Hijikata probably _didn't_ know was that Nakamura was doing the targeting, that Nakamura was a link too. But what did Gintoki know about Nakamura's relationship with Katsura? Squat.

“I didn't have anything to do with the bombs.” Gintoki said, a little strained. “You asked me that first time if I had an alibi and I do. You _know_ what happened the other night.”

“I know.” Hijikata said. “I know. So here's the deal. I need Katsura to stop with the bombs, and I don't care how I get there, they just need to end. I don't even care if you smack him over the back of the head and tell him to quit. If he quits and this case never gets solved, it doesn't matter. The casualties just need to stop. I don't want to drag you through the mud in the process because I honestly don't believe you're helping him, so I would like to ask for you to cooperate with me. I will keep you out of this to the best of my abilities. Can we make a deal?”

Gintoki stared. It wasn't a very hard debate, considering he had no idea what he had been mixed up in. He also wanted to know what was going on, seeing how he was unwillingly involved, and all. Katsura had explaining to do, and if Gintoki figured it out first. _Well._ “I'm not testifying for anything, I'm not making any statements. And I'm telling you now, I don't really know anything.”

Hijikata huffed like he had been holding his breath. “That's fine. This is just two guys theorizing, nothing on record. I'm just having trouble piecing this all together, is all. And once I know what kind of evidence I'm looking for, there should be plenty to make a case without having to turn to you.”

Gintoki huffed.

“Listen. I also don't want to push too far, I'm not trying to be nosy.” Hijikata said. “If you don't want to tell me, if you don't want me to know, just don't say anything. I get it. But my first question, do you know your role in this? Do you know why you were abducted? Or has Katsura left you in the dark?”

Already, Gintoki was ready to end the conversation. His mouth went dry, eyes going dead. “I'm in the dark.”

Hijikata remained quiet for a moment, eyes searching. He sighed. “Have you seen Katsura at all since that Saturday? Has he been in touch with you? Has he been acting… odd?”

“I haven't seen him or heard from him.” Gintoki said. “Elizabeth came by with the letter for you, but that was it. I tried to find him a few days ago, but he doesn't want to be found. Which isn't necessarily odd.” _He's been disappearing lately. Acting strange. Just like you._ Gintoki narrowed his eyes, wondering how much he trusted Hijikata with Zura and vice-versa. _Is he acting strange out of guilt for dragging me into this?_

“Speaking of that letter. I think Katsura wanted me to keep an eye on you. He's quite charming with his metaphors. And by charming, I mean cryptic as fuck.” Hijikata said. “He also tipped us off to the Chop and Lop. We watched him go in, it's a barbershop, and he knew we were watching. Do you have any idea what the connection is? I have no incriminating evidence coming out of the Chop and Lop, no incriminating evidence on the shop owner, Nakamura. Nakamura's a good guy, there's nothing shrewd about him. The only thing we've seen that's technically illegal is Katsura going in and out once, but we can't prove who he met with.”

 _There's nothing shrewd about him? You're terribly mistaken._ Gintoki kept his mouth shut. It was possible Hijikata already knew more than Gintoki did, but Gintoki wasn't sure if he wanted to give up the information he had on Zura. What if getting the police involved made this worse? What if he didn't betray him, what if this was a misunderstanding? _He wanted Hijikata to keep an eye on me? He knew! He did know what was happening to me! Nakamura wasn't lying then?_

Gintoki remained quiet too long because Hijikata finally continued on after analyzing his expression and silence. Hijikata's voice was speculative. “I've been thinking since last night. This barber shop is too perfect, it doesn't make any sense for it to be involved. These bombs don't look like Zura's work, they're messy and disorganized and sporadic. I've been wondering, what could Gintoki possibly have to do with this, how are Gintoki and Zura's bombs related? What's the connection? Do you know what I'm starting to think? I think I know where my thought process went wrong this whole time.”

“Where did it go wrong?” Gintoki asked because he honestly had no idea.

Hijikata glanced to him like he was trying to read Gintoki's face for the answer. “You disappear one night, the next night a bomb goes off. I just found out what happened when you disappeared, and suddenly your behavior over the whole week makes sense. Why should I automatically assume Katsura is in any different position from you right now? I assumed Katsura was the cause of your disappearances, and that was where I went wrong. Katsura's been acting just as weird as you've been.”

Gintoki's eyebrow quirked. He didn't hide his shock. “ _What?_ ”

“You haven't seen Katsura lately. Isn't that odd? The police haven't seen Katsura either. Joui activity is all over the place right now and Katsura's sending _me_ letters, worried about you and dropping hints about seemingly innocent barber shops. This is after suspicious photos of him ended up online. This is after we arrested a Joui member who was a little more than odd.” Hijikata said. “Everything has been odd with him this week. He hasn't been seen in public lately. Nobody has _seen_ him except Yamazaki, and Yamazaki says he doesn't look very good. His work has never been this messy to the point where it looks like he's being impulsive, like he's bombing places for the sake of just bombing them. But it's definitely his doing, we know they're Katsura's bombs but they don't feel like Katsura's bombs. They're peculiar. The timing is all weird, the casualty count is inconsistent, he's disorganized and his motives aren't clear. It's almost like he's acting emotionally.”

Gintoki stared, eyes unblinking. _Emotional?_

“Do you know who else has been disorganized and emotional this week with unclear motives? Who has been a little odd while still somehow being normal? Who's been doing things he doesn't usually do, like lying to everyone he knows?” Hijikata asked. Gintoki didn't see a point in answering, because he was starting to get what Hijikata was saying. He didn't like where this was going. “You. And what happened to you?”

They remained silent for a moment, Gintoki mulling over what had just been said. He thought back to Nakamura lying to him in the park, telling him what Gintoki needed to hear so he'd trustingly go with him. He thought back to the last time he had actually seen Zura, inviting him to Kagura's party, and how happy the idiot had been. And then what, overnight he was selling Gintoki to Nakamura because he suddenly had big terrorist plans? Overnight, Katsura was MIA, Elizabeth asking Gintoki to talk to him because she was concerned? _He's been disappearing lately. Acting strange. Just like you._

The horror must have shown on Gintoki's face because Hijikata continued on.

“I don't know Katsura like you do, but even I can tell something isn't right.” Hijikata said. “I've known something was off with you since you disappeared. I knew something was odd with that first bomb. Is it possible Katsura is in the same position as you?”

 _Zura's in the same position as me?_ Gintoki considered it. But why? Why would Nakamura abduct Katsura? Why did Nakamura abduct him, anyway? Did Zura even know the bigger picture, or where they just being strung along to an even bigger plot? How the hell would Nakamura even get his hands on a guy like Zura? _He got his hands on me, didn't he?_

Considering it, Gintoki narrowed his eyes. “I don't think you're right, but I also don't think you're wrong. Something isn't quite… there.”

Hijikata sighed, hand going to his head. “Are you disappearing so Katsura can place bombs, or are the bombs being placed because you're disappearing?”

Gintoki groaned. “I told you, I don't really know. Look at all the words you wasted just to end up asking the same questions. And here I thought you were on to something.”

Groaning, Hijikata glanced back down to the folder on the table. He flipped it open. Gintoki had seen the files earlier, he knew exactly what they were. “The Chop and Lop. What does the barbershop have to do with anything? Katsura told me my hair sucks and that I should get it cut.”

“Sounds like a metaphorical hint to check out that barber shop.” Gintoki said unhelpfully.

Hijikata glanced up, shooting him a dirty look. “No shit Sherlock. And I was distracted earlier over something stupid Sougo said. I think it's a long shot, but it might be another idea.”

“Oh?” Gintoki asked, just as the phone rang on his desk. “Hold that thought.” He said, getting up. He was half aware that Hijikata was answering his cellphone at the same time. Picking up the receiver, Gintoki fell into his desk chair, eyes on the mess of folders strewn across his desk. He flipped open one, eyes narrowed. “Odd Jobs.”

“Gintoki!” It was Otae. She sounded very upset. “Something happened, Shinpachi is missing.”

“What?”

“Sadaharu ran off, he was humping everything so we kicked him out this morning because he broke the table but he ran off and Shin-chan went after him and didn't come back. I'm really worried it's been-”

Gintoki got up, his hand still on the folder because he had skimmed the first two lines before realizing what Otae was saying. “I'm on my way, just give me a few minutes. I'll be right there. Kagura's there?”

“She's here. Sougo too.”

“Okay, stay put.” Gintoki said. He quickly hung up, hand swiping the file off his desk. He shoved it into his yukata, turning to Hijikata who was already standing. He rushed over, hurrying into the entrance way.

“That was Sougo.”

“We need to go.” Gintoki said, and if his voice didn't break, the panic certainly was clear. “We need to go right now.”

“Yes. Calm down.” Hijikata said a little airy, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch with haste. “Just. He's going to be fine. He'll be fine.”


	13. Watch Out For Heated Conversations Because You Might Start Fires You Didn't Want To Start

They split up into two groups after Otae tearfully explained the situation. It was just as she said; they kicked Sadaharu out. Sadaharu ran off. And Shinpachi went after him. Sougo had been too busy fighting with Kagura to realize what had happened, and he also _hadn't_ mentioned the men hanging around outside like Hijikata had told him. He hadn't wanted to scare them, didn't think it would be a problem as long as they were all together.

Guiltily, Sougo had taken Kagura and Otae to get another car while Gintoki and Hijikata had immediately rushed off to search the area for Sadaharu. Sadaharu or anything suspicious that might lead them to Shinpachi. He'd been abducted in broad daylight, someone _had_ to have seen something.

Gintoki wasn't confident they would find him. He wasn't confident they would find any evidence either. He knew first-hand how Nakamura liked to play this game, knew first-hand that Nakamura didn't give his victims an inkling of what happened unless he _wanted_ them to know. He was too controlled for that, and the fact that Hijikata had no incriminating evidence on Nakamura or the Chop and Lop proved it. Shinpachi wouldn't be found until Nakamura wanted him to be found.

He wouldn't stop trying, but he knew he was going to have to accept that.

An hour later, with no news and Gintoki hardly keeping himself together, Hijikata finally pulled over the car to answer his phone. The stupid jingle was happy and merry. It immediately began to grate on Gintoki's last nerves. “Hijikata.”

Gintoki was leaning against the window, his head in his hand, staring outside. He was helpless, there was nothing they could do except wait until Shinpachi turned up. He hated this. There would be no leads, no evidence, he was just gone. Was Katsura responsible for this too? Gintoki would rather it be himself again, subject to Nakamura's cruelty.

Or was this because Nakamura couldn't get his hands on him? What even was the meaning of all this?

“Alright. Keep me updated.” Hijikata said, hanging up. He groaned, leaning back in his seat, glancing to the roof of the car like it would grant him knowledge. Gintoki got the feeling the news wasn't that great. “Unless there's more than one giant dog in the city, Sadaharu has been spotted in a rugged area. Sougo and the girls are on their way to see if they can find him. Kagura's hoping they can get Sadaharu to track Shinpachi's scent. It might be a long shot, but we don't have anything else right now.”

Gintoki only hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes glued outside the window. He'd taken a brief look at the file in his yukata when driving around had started to prove fruitless. He'd read enough to realize there might be nothing he could do to help. Again. That this might happen to Shinpachi, he might have to live with this, and then what? What could Gintoki do? What could he say to Shinpachi or Tae?

“Hey.” Hijikata said. “I know you're worried, but he's a strong kid.”

Gintoki huffed, pulling the folder out of his yukata and tossing it onto the dash. He didn't turn to look, but he saw Hijikata glance to it in the window reflection. “It doesn't matter if he's a tough kid. These guys haven't been caught and they're not going to get caught now.”

Hijikata remained quite a moment, taking a deep breath. “This is not your fault. I don't think the Red Circle has anything to do with this. It would have to be an absolute coincidence for the Red Circle to abduct Shinpachi while you're caught up with being abducted by another group yourself. Look, Sougo and the kids are on Sadaharu. You know how these stories go. Nothing is ever simple with you guys. Something crazy will happen, and Shinpachi will be okay. And if he's not, we'll deal with that when it happens. One step at a time.”

Gintoki groaned, a headache blossoming in the front of his skull. Hijikata's phone rang again, the jingle off-setting the mood in the car. Gintoki could only hope this time, it was good news.

“Hijikata.” Hijikata said again, his voice tired. He was suddenly very attentive to the conversation. “Where?”

Gintoki glanced over to Hijikata, a cold fear taking over his chest. It sounded like serious news. The bad kind of serious news. The officer's eyebrows were suddenly drawn, gaze cast down to the side.

“You're absolutely sure it's him?”

Gintoki's heart constricted. It was Shinpachi, wasn't it? He was hurt, wasn't he? This was because Gintoki had kept them at arms reach, wasn’t it? Because he'd let all of this go on too long?

“Call… shit don't call Sougo he's busy. Follow him and don't, Yamazaki, _don't_ let him see you this time! I'll send a team down. They'll be in contact shortly for your location.” Hijikata huffed, flipping his phone shut. He groaned, staring at his screen with his eyes closed. That was the face he made when he was trying to think on his feet.

“Shinpachi?” Gintoki asked dreadfully quiet.

“No.” Hijikata said. “Yamazaki abandoned his post to go get anpan and he spotted Katsura. Sougo and I are not going to abandon Shinpachi until he's found, so I'm going to have to send-”

“Let's go.” Gintoki said. This needed to end now. And if it started with Katsura, it would end with Katsura. Gintoki would make sure of it, persuasively or otherwise. “Now. Let's go.”

Hijikata glanced over, surprised. “What about Shinpachi? What if we get the call right away?”

Gintoki needed to stop holding back, needed to stop keeping the secret details form Hijikata. Holding back was what had gotten him into trouble in the first place. “Nakamura is acting under Katsura's orders.” Gintoki said, his anger towards Katsura coming back. “If Shinpachi has been taken by Nakamura, Katsura will know where he is. If not, you still have Katsura and maybe the whole story.” _And if not, at least I know Nakamura was_ _damn good at_ _lying about Katsura's involvement._

Hijikata's eyes widened. “Nakamura-”

“Let's go.”

Without saying another word, Hijikata put the car into drive.

 

–

 

Shinpachi woke to arguing. The noise level aside, he was instantly aware of two things. One, he didn't recognize either voice, and two, his hands were tightly bound before him.

He opened his eyes, feeling a little tired. He was lying on his side on a stiff couch, the coffee table before him an absolute mess of snack wrappers and full ash-trays. The smell in the room was terrible, the lighting mediocre at best. The arguing voices were in the same room but no one was in view. If they couldn't see he was awake, Shinpachi had the advantage. He gently pulled at his binds, making sure he didn't move too much to draw attention. Glancing down through askew glasses, he saw three zip-ties were holding him captive. Well. He wasn't breaking through three of those.

He could remember chasing after Sadaharu. Remembered a friendly looking man approaching him, asking if he was chasing after that giant dog. Shinpachi had gone right up to the man for information, he hadn't even hesitated. He'd been taken from behind, something on his tongue, a hand covering his mouth. And then everything had gone black.

He felt stupid. He'd been kidnapped in broad daylight. No one had seen a thing.

“And how much did you give him?” A man snapped. His voice had a nice lilt to it, but it was beyond furious. “You gave him a full tablet! It never occurred to you that it might be too much? We don't even give the muscular guys a full tablet, we only give them half. And do you know why we only give them half? Because it's _too fucking much_.”

“I- I said I'm- I'm sorry-”

“And if he dies? Are you going to dare apologize to me then?” The man snapped. “You'll be asking for seppuku and I won't grant it. I called off the order. Did you miss the memo? Why the fuck did you take him?”

Were they talking about him? Shinpachi closed his eyes and relaxed, feigning sleep as the two men moved closer. He did a mental check on his body, not finding much wrong. He felt a little tired, a little sluggish. Like he hadn't slept well and was carrying around all of those crates of oranges with Gin-san again. His wrists were sore from the tight bindings, skin raw, but besides that, he didn't feel bad at all? They couldn't be talking about him, he didn't feel like he'd been drugged. Or was this just how it was?

“I'm sorry. I will get rid of him right now.” Meekly, the other guy was pleading. “He won't be a problem, don't worry. I'll drop him off at the park, and if he dies it will look like an overdose. No hassle.”

“ _Excuse me_?” The man snapped. “He won't be a problem? Letting him die in public is the answer? He's already a problem, you dumbass. The fact that you took him after I told you _not to_ is the issue. How am I supposed to explain this when this inevitably gets back to _him_? And he finally started taking me seriously, finally started to listen. If this kid dies, I lose my leverage, he'll be back to square one and I might lose _all_ of my progress this time. All of it. _Do you understand me_? I told you to watch the Shimura's, to take them on my command. I didn't _give you_ that command, I told you to come back!”

It sounded like they were definitely talking about Shinpachi. Unless there was more than one kid present? Shinpachi remained slack, mind racing. If they thought he was going to die, then he might have a chance to escape before he actually did die. He remembered being given something, didn't remember anything up until now. Was he okay? But why was he waking up like he had just been given a shot of Ryquil?

“Mistakes like this is how we end up failing. This is how we drag the Joui _and_ the police to our front door!” The man said. A door slid open, the voice suddenly growing distant. “Come sit down. We need to discuss how you're going to rectify this situation.”

Shinpachi opened his eyes again. Blinking away a sheen of bleariness, he glanced around the living room quickly to make sure there was no one else present. The walls were gross, the floorboards were gross, everything was gross. The sound of a door closing caught Shinpachi's attention, the voices behind him now, murmuring low. They were in another room.

He was alone. As long as the two men stayed in that room, he could escape. Sitting up, the faintest crawl of discomfort passed through his skull but he didn't give it a second thought. He glanced around again, making sure he was completely alone, suspicious of the fact that he had been left unwatched on the couch. They must have been talking about him. They must have thought he was on death's doorstep. _So why am I not?_

Ever so slowly, he stood to his feet, wary of every single sound in the house. He crept around the table after fixing his glasses, mindful of the discarded package wrappers all over the floor, aware that one miss-step would result in the loudest crinkle of his life. He didn't bother stopping in the kitchen, didn't want to waste time cutting his hands free. He crept to the only open door in the room, peeking around the corner into the front entrance hall. It was empty. He crept in with his heart pounding in his chest. Was he going to escape just like this? Was it really going to be this easy? _Nothing_ was this easy.

Quicker, he crept the last few steps, pulling the front door open and carefully sneaking outside. He was sure to close the door quietly behind him. Who knew how long he had before his absence was noticed? The sun was high in the afternoon sky, the weather not quite as cold as it had been for a while. He was still dressed for the winter chill at least; his clothes hadn't been touched. He could get out and find help, no problem.

To Shinpachi's right, something moved. Dashing out of the way just like Gintoki taught him – never hesitate, never – Shinpachi had just enough time to catch a very bald and massive man lunging for him. The man's hands were outstretched, missing his shoulder by no more than an inch, and Shinpachi turned and fled. Within seconds, shouting started up behind him. Shinpachi didn't look, didn't want to know how many were chasing him, but judging from the voices there were at least three.

Shinpachi turned into the nearest alley, running down the length of it before emerging back into the street. Mindful of his bound hands, he knew he couldn't afford to fall. If he fell, this would be all over. He needed to find somewhere to hide, fast. There was no way he could outrun them. Maybe he should have stopped to cut himself free. Maybe he could stop someone and get them to help him-

“Thief! That kid is stealing wallets! Grab him!” A man yelled behind him, catching the attention of the pedestrians. A man close by, a stranger who didn't have anything to do with this, lunged for him, trying to grab his arms.

Shinpachi shrieked, jerking out of the way just in time. Scrap that thought, he couldn't ask anyone for help! At the next intersection, he turned right, the back of his throat burning with every chilled inhale as he continued running. He was halfway down the block, dashing slower and slower, keeping close to the shop walls to avoid the crowd of people, when a hand snatched out and grabbed him, hauling him into the alley.

“No!” Shinpachi squeaked, back hitting the wall. He was quick to bounce back into action, ready to take off, when he realized there was a man standing in front of him with his hand out to signal for him to stay. The man was turned away, his back turned and attention on the passing crowd. He lowered his hand when Shinpachi didn't run. Blocking him from view of the street, keeping him hidden, the man leaned against the edge of the alley like he was casually waiting for someone to meet him. Shinpachi relaxed. He wasn't too much taller, wearing a thick, dark yukata. He had a straw hat, obscuring his face and hair, a sword at his hip. A random stranger. Shinpachi had been saved.

“Thief! He went this way!”

Shinpachi pressed himself back against the wall, quietly trying to catch his breath. He'd give his pursuers credit, they were a touch smarter than the average criminal, sure knew how to nab and keep hostages.

When the shouting died down and Shinpachi caught his breath, he cleared his throat. He turned towards the man who was still facing the street, his hands poking at his glasses to fix them. “Thank you very much for saving me.”

“Yeah.” The man said, his voice striking Shinpachi as familiar.

The man slowly turned to glance over his shoulder and face him, a smile pulling on his lips. Recognition hit Shinpachi like Kagura accidentally elbowing him in the gut, spluttering disbelief and horror. The fine hairs on Shinpachi's arms and neck suddenly rose.

“Give me your hands.”

 

–

 

With his back to an alley wall, Katsura peered out into the street.

Somewhere out there, Yamazaki was tailing him. The undercover cop had shown up out of nowhere, had been sneaking around with a slightly deranged look on his face like he didn't expect Katsura to spot him in that blinding yellow jacket of his. But very recently, Katsura had lost sight of him, and he didn't really think that meant Yamazaki had lost sight of him too.

Be it paranoia or caution, Katsura felt watched.

He was dangerously focused. He had two more bombs to plant before his inevitable meeting with Nakamura, and he wasn't sure if he had made so many bombs to prolong the meeting or to try and prove his loyalty. In the end, it didn't matter. He was still losing.

He was dreadfully impassive about all of this right now, just trying to keep it together until the next time he saw Nakamura. He knew the second he went into that office, Nakamura would just tear him down further. Further and further, spiraling down and down. Katsura's head was foggy, his plans less than strategic. He felt like he was watching himself from afar like he was doing things he knew he shouldn't be doing but he couldn't even stop himself.

His eyes flickered over everyone passing by, his senses on high alert. No one caught his attention, no one was even remotely familiar. He was just about to sneak from his hiding place when he heard the soft crunch of snow behind him, someone approaching. Quickly, Katsura glanced over his shoulder, his skin prickling when he saw it wasn't Yamazaki.

“Katsura.” Hijikata said, approaching unhurried. He had a lit smoke in his mouth, his hands in his pockets. His eyes were hard, steel blue slightly pissed. “You're under arrest. You're coming with me.”

Katsura fled as fast as he could, which wasn't as fast as normal. He disappeared into the throng of people to cross the street, sneaking into another alley. Behind him, he couldn't hear Hijikata running after him, but Katsura pressed on anyway, emerging into the street again before disappearing into yet another alley. He couldn't afford to keep running, pain skipping up his back. He needed to shake the police sooner rather than later, needed to find somewhere to hide.

He was halfway down when he dared to slow his pace and look over his shoulder. Someone worse caught up to him.

There was a flash of white from behind him, and suddenly Katsura was down on his back in the snow, a body that had fallen beside him already rolling over him. Gintoki's bare hands dropped just over Katsura's shoulders, one leg being thrown over Katsura's stomach to straddle his waist.

Spooked, Katsura acted on impulse. His right leg moved out of the way, opening wide, pain shooting up his back, so that when Gintoki finally straddled him he sat down on Katsura's left thigh instead of his midsection. Katsura's free leg wrapped around Gintoki's hip, his left elbow shooting into the crook of Gintoki's right arm before he could move it. Gintoki's arm buckled from the blow. As Gintoki dropped from the sudden lack of support, Katsura was quick to twist with the leg at Gintoki's hip, using the momentum of his fall to shove Gintoki over.

Katsura rolled them, coming out on top.

They were suddenly scrapping like two feral dogs, Katsura fighting to neutralize Gintoki's hands and keep him on his back before Gintoki could grab him by the shoulders and throw him over.

Katsura was suddenly hauled off Gintoki by the back of his yukata, Hijikata finally catching up to them. Katsura was quick to grab the officer's wrist and twist, forcing his hand loose. Was quick to stagger to his feet facing Hijikata, his back dangerously exposed to Gintoki on the ground. With a snarl, Katsura lunged for Hijikata, hand on the hilt of his blade, but he never even got to draw.

Gintoki grabbed Katsura's ankle and pulled it out from beneath him, dropping him back down face first into the snow, hard enough to knock the breath from him. Gintoki grabbed him then, hand sinking into the back of his yukata, pulling hard enough that Katsura was dragged back under Gintok, his weight settling on Katsura's lower back, crushingly heavy. Katsura twisted his torso, disoriented, his elbow coming up towards Gintoki's face. Gintoki let go of his yukata, one hand catching Katsura's elbow, the other grabbing that same forearm and twisting

Crying out, Katsura's arm was viciously pinned behind his back, his face shoved in the snow, Gintoki holding him down. They were both panting, breaths coming out heavy and labored. Hijikata hovered nearby, watching.

“Where is Shinpachi?” Gintoki snapped.

Katsura turned his head to catch half a view of Gintoki's face, his expression confused. _Where's Shinpachi?_ He was lost for a moment before that confusion turned into understanding. Did he do something wrong? Was this because his performance had been shit last night? Did Nakamura think he did it on purpose? Katsura's face went neutrally blank in horror. He'd set all of these bombs for the man. After everything he did last night, and Nakamura had taken one of the kids _anyway_.

Enraged by the slack expression, Gintoki shoved on his arm, dislocation of his shoulder a real threat. “Where the fuck is he, Zura.”

“I don't know.” Katsura snapped. “I don't know anything about that. I don't know.”

“Like fuck you don't.” Gintoki snapped. “Where did Nakamura take him?”

“I said I don't know!”

“Gintoki.” Hijikata said, finally moving closer. “Let's talk in the car before you both get frostbite down there. Yelling at him won't do anything.”

“Let him freeze.” Gintoki snapped. “Zura, I swear to fuck, if he touches him...”

Katsura's impassive expression suddenly rivaled Gintoki's dead-fish look. He kept quiet without struggling, eyes half-lidded. He was closing off, going slack beneath Gintoki's hold, and Gintoki was becoming more and more furious with every passing second.

“Katsura!”

“Hey.” Hijikata said, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. It looked like they were going to be there for a while. “Where is Shinpachi?”

“I don't know where Shinpachi is, I don't- I didn't-” Katsura gasped. “Why would I lie about that? Do you think I'd willingly put them in danger? Him or Kagura? I tried to prevent this.”

“Then why was he kidnapped?” Gintoki snapped. “Because last I checked, every time _I've_ been kidnapped, it's because of you! I don't care what shit you've gotten mixed up in, that's _your_ fault. I need to get to Shinpachi before he's hurt, and you know what I mean by _hurt_.”

 _Do you know what I mean by hurt? Does that mean Nakamura is… Gintoki didn't tell me..._ Hijikata placed a hand at his hip, pulling his handcuffs free. They didn't have time for banter like this. Katsura needed to spill and he needed to spill now. And if he didn't know anything about Shinpachi, then they needed to get back on the trail immediately.

“He won't be hurt.” Katsura said. He said it so straight, so simply, that Hijikata almost believed him. Until Hijikata realized Katsura was trying to convince not just Gintoki, but himself. “Yes, they took him because of me but-”

Gintoki looked like he saw red. He yanked Katsura's arm until he was flipped on his back, Gintoki's fist still clenched over his forearm to keep him pinned. Gintoki pulled a hand back in anger, and Katsura flinched violently. The Joui rebel turned his head away immediately, face into the snow, body suddenly rigid. Gintoki's hand lowered, dropping onto Katsura's cheek just hard enough to be heard. Katsura started to pant beneath him, shaking his head.

“I didn't know. I didn't know he would take him. I did everything to prevent that. I listened. I tried to keep you all safe.” Katsura said. He was breathless. “He wasn’t going to take him. He told me. He told me he wouldn't do it if I. I. Gintoki I didn't. I didn't.”

“Hey.” Hijikata said. He knelt down, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. He studied Katsura for a moment, really looking at him. He looked over the bruise on his cheek, a deep black while the edges were turning green and yellow in some places. New wounds over old. He looked over Katsura's body language, the breathing, remembered Gintoki's phone call. Remembered Gintoki going slack in his car, the short sentences, being unable to explain what was happening. Having a breakdown before revealing trauma.  _Is it possible Katsura is in the same position as you?_ And here it was. The story was coming full circle.

“Hey. Who told you all of this? Who are you talking about?” Hijikata asked gently. He was pretty sure he knew who they were talking about, he just wanted to make sure they were all on the same page.

“Nakamura.” Gintoki said, hand sliding off Katsura's face to his shoulder. “I _know_ Nakamura took him, you dumbass. Did you tell him to? Just like you told him to keep me out of the way? Was it you?”

 _Keep Gintoki out of the way_ _?_ _He's know_ _n_ _this whole time who's been targeting him!_ Hijikata's gaze cut to Gintoki, infuriated that Gintoki had left out that _very_ important detail. Nakamura had been the link and Gintoki hadn't told him!

“No, no, no.” Katsura wheezed. “I don't tell him anything. I don't tell him to do shit. I can't. He won't. He tells _me_.”

“He tells you?” Hijikata asked. Gintoki was staring at Katsura like he had suddenly sprouted a second head. Suddenly, it clicked. It all clicked right into place. Hijikata gaped, eyes on Katsura. _He threatened to buy all of the pickled seaweed in Japan to get them to stay._ How do you make a guy like Katsura place bombs he doesn't want to place? How does the Chop and Lop, _Nakamura_ , fit into the puzzle? He's the one calling the shots. He's keeping his hands clean by dirtying them in Katsura. This wasn't about Gintoki at all, this was about controlling Katsura.

“And you listen to that guy?” Gintoki asked, his voice taking on a softer tone. “Why?”

“You.” Katsura said. “He was hurting you. He wouldn't- I couldn't stop him.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Gintoki went silent. He let go of Katsura's arm, sitting up. He glanced to Hijikata, eyes wide.

“Let's finish this in the car.” Hijikata said quietly, pulling his handcuffs out. He leaned in extra slow, clipped the cuffs on Katsura's wrists like he expected the man to bite him. Speaking of bites, there one was, right by the hairline on Katsura's neck, under his jaw.

He wouldn't take him to the police station just so he could escape within eight hours. If he was taking Katsura down for the bombs, Nakamura was going down with him. They'd go back to Shimura's, Katsura would spill the story, and they'd plan their winning move.

“Zura, you're coming with us.”

Katsura only hummed, his hands shaking. From the cold or something else, Hijikata didn't know. Gintoki pulled Katsura up into a sitting position, his hand fisted in the front of Katsura's yukata. Katsura was still panting as he was hauled to his feet, Gintoki standing beside him with his hand on Katsura's arm, keeping him steady.

“I'm going to have to take your sword.” Hijikata said, moving in. His fingertips only ghosted over the scabbard. He never expected Katsura to respond so negatively.

In a fraction of a second, the positions they were in was wildly different.

There was hot pain on Hijikata's jaw. His eyes were wide, every hair on his body standing on end. His hand was halfway to the hilt of his own sword. His brain hadn't quite caught up yet, but he knew one thing for certain. He'd been too slow _._

Katsura's arm was still in Gintoki's grip, but his shaking blade had been drawn, the sharp edge resting against Hijikata's jaw. Warm blood rolled down the side of the officer's neck.

Gintoki had both hands tight on Katsura's right arm, holding him back with all of his strength. Holding him back from pressing his blade deeper into Hijikata's face. The aim had been Hijikata's neck, and Gintoki had deflected that. Had moved the strike up an inch to catch skin that wouldn't result in a fatal injury.

They stood still for several seconds, Hijikata catching up to what had happened. He felt like he was staring death in the face, Katsura's eyes blank. His body was locked rigid, breathing shallow. Katsura's focus suddenly sharpened like he was coming back to himself. He dropped the blade, eyes wide. He started panting again, heavy and deep, a violent shake taking over his body.

Hijikata took a step back, frazzled. “I'm… I'm going to call Yamazaki for the car.” He said a little airy, trying not to think too hard about the grim look present on Gintoki's face. About the fact that Hijikata had almost lost his head. “Get him… move him… I'm re-cuffing him. Hands behind his back.”

Exhaling, he moved forward to fix the cuffs. What the hell had that been? Katsura was slack, let Hijikata cuff his hands behind his back without an ounce of fight. Hijikata took the moment to examine Katsura's forearms. They were bruise-free, unlike Gintoki's. Gintoki hauled him over to a wall once the cuffs were on, leaning him against it with an odd look on his face.

Hijikata followed them to make sure Katsura didn't run, picking up the sword along the way. But he kept a step further from Katsura than he should have, motioned for Gintoki to take Katsura's scabbard so Hijikata could confiscate the blade. In his hand, Hijikata suddenly stared at it before sliding it through his own belt. _Where's your sword?_ Gintoki had broke after that. Had slid down that door in a hundred little pieces. And now here was Katsura, trying to take his head for just touching it. Going completely slack and unresponsive afterward like he was disassociating. This had happened earlier, hadn't it? Katsura's lack of response? _Is he taking your sword too?_

Nakamura was breaking them apart piece by piece.

Hijikata recovered quickly from Katsura's attack. He had to. That wasn't Katsura acting out, that had been fear, and Hijikata wasn't sure how he felt about that yet.

This was all starting to make so much more sense.

A steadier hand fished out his phone from his pocket to send Yamazaki their location so they could get the car, could all get out of the cold. So they could get back on Shinpachi's trail and put an end to this madness. He finally rubbed the blood away from his jaw, mixed feelings when he stared at the smear on his hand.

He glanced up when Katsura began to quietly speak to Gintoki.

“I owe you the truth. The kids were the trump card.” Katsura whispered. He was leaning forward, hair framing his face, eyes on the ground. “I couldn't save you from him because I fell short, but I could save the kids. I did what he asked. For them. He shouldn't have taken Shinpachi. It has to be a mistake. I listened, unless this is because- I-”

“Nakamura?” Gintoki asked quietly. “Trump card for what? The bombs? This is all about the bombs, isn't it?”

“He wants the _Joui_.” Katsura moaned. Here it was. The confession. “He wants me to give him the Joui and I wouldn't let him have them so he- your safety in exchange for my cooperation, and now the kids' safety too. He didn't even threaten me, he just took you because I didn't take him seriously. I didn't cooperate Gintoki, that's why he keeps taking you because I can't- I'm trying to- I made _mistakes_ , I keep making mistakes. I've underestimated him, that's my error. I can’t even apologize to you, it would never be enough.”

Hijikata almost forgot to hit 'send'. His lips parted, cigarette almost falling out. _He's talking like..._ “Nakamura is abducting Gintoki to make you place bombs, correct?”

Gintoki suddenly looked pale. He glanced to Hijikata, mouth shut.

Katsura nodded. His bangs were shielding his face, but Hijikata saw a tear drop. “I tried to redirect his attention, tried to get him to focus on me, but he called my bluff. I was too obvious. I tried to keep up, tried to get one step ahead, but I couldn't. This all could have been avoided if I'd just- just- I didn't _know_. He didn't even threaten you, Gintoki, he just took you and threw it in my face and- I didn't know how to proceed- I've given in-”

“Why didn't you just tell me?” Hijikata asked. “You told me about the Chop and Lop, why didn't you tell me he was blackmailing you? Why send the cryptic message? You had your chance.”

“I wasn't _sure_.” Katsura said. “I didn't think I- It was just another mistake. I didn't know he had me at check, I didn't know I was out of options.”

“That first bomb?” Hijikata asked.

“His.” Katsura said. “The rest are mine. I tried to keep the casualties minimum but that was a mistake, he threatened the kids. He wants casualties, he wants the Joui to go back to their former glory, to cut down the Amanto and drive them out.”

“Why blackmail you? Why not fight you for them, take you out of the picture?” Hijikata asked. “Is that what the first bomb was? A declaration for war?”

“No.” Katsura said. He glanced up, his face pale and eyes red. “The Joui follow me because they want to, not because I make them. If Nakamura cut me down, they wouldn't follow him just because he's stronger. He needs me to validate him. He needs to have my favour, to stand at my side as my equal, to win them over, but he- I wouldn't give that to him, I told him no, I should have just-”

“Why didn't you tell anyone?” Hijikata asked, a little testy. “Gintoki? You didn't think to ask for his help? To tell him what he got dragged into? You didn't think to be a little more clear in your message to me? You didn't think to tell the kids they're being followed so they'd know to watch out for strangers? You know, Sougo didn't tell Shinpachi he was being watched, and now Shinpachi is missing. Do you think this would have happened if Shinpachi knew he was being targeted? No.”

“I'm trying to take responsibility-”

“Because it's your fault? You're a terrorist, of course it's your fault you're putting your friends in danger.” Hijikata said, breaking into a stern tone the second Katsura nodded in agreement. “Katsura. Do you understand what you've been telling me? You're telling me that this is your fault and yours only. You need to fix this. You keep falling short, you're making mistakes, you're plans aren't owning up. Gintoki has been hurt because of you and you're avoiding him because, how could he forgive you? The bombs have been wrecking havoc because of you, killing people because of you. Shinpachi is now missing because of you. You fucked up. This is what you keep telling me.”

“Hijikata.” Gintoki said quietly, glancing over with an odd look on his face. His tone was warning. “What are you saying to him?”

“I'm saying he doesn't see what's happening here. What he's _actually_ telling me.” Hijikata said, voice smoothing a little. He heavily breathed out the sharp tone, continuing on a little softer. “Katsura. Forget about being a terrorist for a second. You, a human being, told Nakamura he couldn't have something and he is forcing you to give it to him. You have done nothing but tell me how you're falling short, how you're to blame, how you need to take responsibility for this. You haven't said one incriminating thing about Nakamura when Nakamura is the one who put you in this position. Do you know why that is? Do you know what we call this? People like you? Do you know why you're continuing to make 'mistakes' even though you have the power to stop him?”

“I'm _not_ a victim.” Katsura said sharply, catching Gintoki's attention suddenly. “He came into this with everything he had an I underestimated him. What he did to Gintoki-”

“Stop.” Hijikata said. “Where'd you get that bruise?”

Katsura huffed, eyes suddenly avoidant. “I wasn't _listening_ to him-”

“ _Stop_.” Hijikata said again because Katsura wasn't _getting_ it. “Did you strike him back?”

“No.” Katsura's voice went shaky. He looked away. “He wants me to resort to violence so I wouldn't, I won't.”

“But you're placing bombs that are claiming hundreds of lives instead?” Hijikata asked. When Katsura shook his head, he saw the understanding pass over him. Katsura was realizing now what Hijikata was getting at, was denying it. He wasn't acting out of fear. He wasn't sabotaging his own plans out of fear. He wasn't.

“Instead of taking out Nakamura, you're bombing the city. That's violence. You've resorted to violence, Katsura, which is what he wanted. Why did you do that?”

“I- I don't know, I got _confused_. The plans got mixed up?” Katsura said, struggling to explain. “I'm...”

“You're heart is in the right place, but you're scared of him.” Hijikata said. “You can't strike him back, because he's scared you. You're shutting yourself off from everyone who cares about you because he's threatening them. You can retaliate, we all know you'd win. Hell, if you asked, Gintoki would probably do it for you. Or even Kondou, we'd have him arrested within the hour. But you're not going to rely on anyone, are you? You're not reaching out. You're not attacking him. You're not fighting back anymore. Do you know why this is?”

“I'm _not_ a victim.” Katsura hissed.

In the corner of his eye, Hijikata saw Yamazaki roll the car to a stop in front of the alley, but Hijikata wasn't done quite yet.

“Zura. Listen to yourself.” Gintoki said, turning towards him, his voice gentle. “You're a stubborn idiot, yes, but you've always been the one to see things like this-”

“I said I'm _not_.” Katsura snapped.

“You _are_ , Zura. You're a victim and he's abusing you. You've fallen into a role, that's why this is still happening.” Hijikata said. “You're telling me Nakamura isn't responsible for his own actions? That Nakamura hitting you is _your_ fault? That Nakamura abducting Gintoki is also your fault? That the lengths this guy is going to just to control you is completely your fault, and that he is, in no way, shape, or form, responsible?”

Katsura closed his eyes, face averted, mouth firmly closed. “Nakamura isn't drugging me.” Katsura said, like that was some sort of excuse. “I'm free to-”

“Stop.” Hijikata said. “You're defending him. Do you even realize you're defending him?”

Katsura shook his head, denying it. Denying all of it. He kept his mouth closed, refusing to look Hijikata's way.

“You _both_ need to stop.” They were upsetting Gintoki. He'd been oddly silent this whole time, the swirling pot of emotions clear on his face for once. His eyes said murder but his tone said anxiety. “What do we do with him, then?”

Hijikata huffed, arms crossed over his chest. Did he handle this right, or did he make this a bigger mess? If he wanted to incriminate Nakamura, he wouldn't be able to trust Katsura to do _anything_ to help them, not while he continued to blame himself like this. He could defect at any moment over any threat to Gintoki's or the kids' safety, and Hijikata wouldn't know until the plan fell through, until it was too late. Nakamura still had him leashed chokingly tight, and Gintoki didn't want to be involved legally. As of right now, Hijikata could only hope Katsura would come around, would trust them. If not, he'd have to drag Katsura to jail, watch him escape, and then watch this all repeat itself for another round.

“We go to the Shimura's and wait for an update on Sadaharu. We have no leads, Gintoki, we're going to have to wait. You two need to relax for a little, do a little thinking.” Hijikata said. “And when Katsura's ready to admit he needs help, we'll make a plan to deal with Nakamura.”


	14. Forgive But Never Forget

Well. That had been the most awkward, silent, brooding car ride of Gintoki's life.

Standing in the empty Shimura home – doors all unlocked, because who locks their doors in this series? – Gintoki suddenly felt a little… out of place. It was an odd feeling, he decided, as he headed for the kitchen to make something, to _do_ something. A feeling he hadn't had in quite some time.

“Where are you going?” Hijikata asked. Gintoki glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Katsura silently skulking away to one of the rooms, hands still cuffed behind his back.

What a mess.

Making tea, Gintoki returned to the main room and settled down at the table with the pot and a couple of cups, knowing how much Hijikata liked caffeine these days. He took one look at Hijikata with his hands sliding through his hair, head turned down before he poured the tea.

After a few minutes of silence, Gintoki decided to finally ask. “Are you okay?”

“I almost died.” Hijikata said, a humorless chuckle following that. “And for some reason, I'm not even that upset? It's not quite hitting me yet, I don't think. Hold me back later, when I try to beat him for this.”

Gintoki kept his mouth shut, spinning the teacup in his hands. He understood. He wasn't sure how he felt about all of this yet. Katsura had said too much and not enough at the same time, in that alley. Had tried to cut down the only other man Gintoki could trust with his big frail heart. Just enough to stir the pot but… it was _Zura_. Zura wouldn't just… he… it was all wrong. There were too many questions, too many variables. They were all holding back so the information wasn't completely on the table and that was the problem.

Hijikata huffed, sitting up, rubbing his face. His eyes met Gintoki's, held his gaze comfortably for a moment. “Are _you_ okay? That was a lot of exercise for a man fresh out of the hospital. Nothing hurts?”

Gintoki shrugged. His overall pain was bearable. It could be worse. He glanced down to his tea, mouth pulled tight.

“You're so stubborn.” Hijikata muttered. “Both of you. Too damn stubborn. Why is it so hard for you two to ask for help before it's bad?”

And that was the end of the conversation. There was no heart to heart. Katsura didn't come out crying and apologizing within the next ten minutes, they didn't all make up. Instead, an hour passed, Hijikata drinking the whole pot of tea and Gintoki moving restlessly through the house. He avoided the room Katsura was holed up in, didn't even give it a second glance as he paced, wondering, worrying. He felt useless, knew there wasn't much the three of them could do until Sougo called. What if Shinpachi was hurt? What would he do with himself then?

By the time Katsura came wretchedly sulking out from the bedroom, by the time Hijikata reluctantly released the cuffs, Gintoki was sore. Extra sore. His back hurt. Head hurt. Hips hurt. Legs, feet, hands. Everything. He flopped at the table, not looking Katsura's way because he still wasn't sure if he was okay with Katsura's explanation or not. Wasn't sure what he was feeling.

Katsura sat down at the table, his head lowered, face shielded by his bangs. “I've come up with a plan.”

Hijikata rolled his eyes. “Because your plans have been working so well.”

Katsura hesitated, but he continued on. “I owe you both an apology and an explanation, but I doubt it will be enough.”

“Save it.” Hijikata said rather sharply. Sounded like he was mad after all. “As of right now, from the standpoint of a _police officer_ , the only problem in this city I have to deal with is the bombings. And who is bombing the city? You. No Nakamura. No Chop and Lop. No Red Circle. No kidnappings. No abuse or assault. Nothing. So unless you present cold hard evidence to prove you were forced, I might not be able to do anything to help you. Especially if you don't want help. And if you wait too long, like if we find Shinpachi in a less than ideal state, I might be more inclined to just haul your ass to the nearest station. Understand?”

“As I said, I have an idea.” Katsura said. He glanced to Hijikata, his eyelids fluttering. “I can listen to Nakamura, I can continue doing as I have been, and I can get you your evidence.”

Hijikata didn't look convinced. “How can I trust you? He's manipulated you this far, Katsura. You're on a really tight leash.”

“I am. Use it to your advantage.” Katsura said. His eyelids fluttered again, another argument quietly leaving his mouth.

Gintoki huffed, getting up. He was so… so… _ugh_. He left the two of them to argue, disappearing into the kitchen again. He popped open the fridge, very full unlike his own, rummaging through until he found a couple of little boxes of orange juice. They would have to do. Satisfied with his finding, he returned to the table where Hijikata had seemingly agreed to at least listen to Katsura's idea.

“I am not in a position to make decisions.” Katsura admitted. He didn't glance Gintoki's way as he flopped down. “You can trust that I will do as Nakamura says.”

“And?” Hijikata asked. “You want to use that to your advantage how?”

Silently, Gintoki slid one of the juice boxes Katsura's way, eyes boring holes into his friend. _Drink it_ , was the silent command, but Katsura only glanced at the box. His eyes skirted just below Gintoki's gaze, going back to Hijikata's.

“I was told to meet him after the last bomb. I'm late.” Katsura said. “We're at the point where he needs to reinforce me every time I listen, but he can't have me testing the limits. It's likely-”

“The short version.” Hijikata snapped.

Katsura stared at the table, eyes slowly sliding towards the juice box. He hesitated, the silence drawing out so long that Gintoki glanced to Hijikata. They exchanged a look. Gintoki swayed his head to the side, a silent _no_ , and Hijikata seemed to bite back whatever he had been about to say.

They waited Katsura out. Katsura finally reached for the juice box, his hand simply on it. “He… hasn't been drugging me, but... I've received the same treatment from him as Gintoki. It's indisputable evidence.”

Gintoki suddenly felt his indecisive emotions tip over. Red hot fury won out and it looked like Hijikata was in the same boat. “What the hell does that mean?” Gintoki snapped, not sure yet if he was mad at Katsura or Nakamura or both of them.

“It means I am not exempt for striking Hijikata when he tried to take my sword, but I wholeheartedly did it out of fear.” Katsura said, gaze finally meeting Gintoki's. “When Nakamura asks me for my sword, I give it to him. After, when he asks me to bend over, I do it. The plan is really simple. I am late and Nakamura has me on a tight leash. There's no room for insubordination. I go back to the Chop and Lop, to Nakamura, and he punishes me as he has been. Yamazaki will see me go in, he will call you, Hijikata, and you come down and arrest me. You arrest everyone in the Chop and Lop, and you subject us all to medical examinations. I'll have Nakamura's DNA all over me. There's no question that he's involved with me. The evidence won't suggest we're lovers, either. I don't care which of us goes down for the bombs, I just want him gone.”

Gintoki was struck silent, eyes widening as he caught up to what Katsura was saying. Catching up to the tremor in his voice, the flutter of his lashes.

“Absolutely not.” Gintoki said. That hot fury was directed at Nakamura now.

He'd been leaning forward on the low table but now he was sitting upright with his arms crossed, mouth pulled thin. A nervous tingle started in his fingertips. No way was he going to let Katsura plan his own downfall. No way was _this_ the only option to drag Nakamura down for all the shit he'd put them through. There had to be something they'd missed, something they could pin him for.

“It's going to happen anyway, and it will get Hijikata the evidence he needs to open an investigation on Nakamura. That's all I need. Just put him behind bars and I get my peaceful end.” Katsura said. He was fiddling with the plastic wrapper of the straw now, the orange juice still unopened on the table, much to Gintoki's annoyance. “Hijikata literally just said there's no evidence against Nakamura. There's nothing the police can do to drag him into this, Gintoki, unless you decide to testify, and even then, it won't connect him to the Joui. You don't want to do that, I don't want you to do that. I can do it for you, Gintoki. I will take the fall for you. This is our best option. _My_ best option. You get Nakamura's computer, you'll get your dirt on him. He's going to hurt me anyway.”

“Drink that juice, you idiot.” Gintoki huffed, leaning on his elbows again, going over the _plan_ again in his head. He glanced Hijikata's way, Hijikata looking just as grim as Gintoki felt.

“Well?” Gintoki asked.

He hoped the officer would say no. Hoped so much that Hijikata had a better idea than what Katsura had just spewed. But Hijikata sat with his arms crossed and a considerate look on his face. What Katsura had just offered him would expose the entire situation to the police. It would expose Nakamura for manipulating Edo's most wanted criminal, making _him_ the bigger threat than Katsura. They would both be arrested, yes, but Nakamura behind bars was the best outcome they could hope for. (Besides karma showing up and stabbing that bastard in the dick until he bled out and died.)

“It's a good plan.” Hijikata said.

Gintoki almost moaned. He glanced Katsura's way, but Katsura wasn't looking at him. He was pale, fingers dead still on the straw wrapper.

“I'm okay with taking Nakamura down with everything he used against me.” Katsura said, the conviction in his voice strong. He was still fiddling with the wrapper, not because he was nervous, but because he was openly displaying his trust to them. “I also… I need to put an end to this. It doesn't matter how.”

“Zura.”

“I stand by what I said before.” Katsura said, still not looking Gintoki's way. “I need to take responsibility. I need to do it for my sake just as much as yours. I will take everything he used to control me and throw it back in his face and I _will_ get my peaceful resolution. Nakamura will not have the Joui, and I will not raise my blade to him. He will go to jail, and the Chop and Lop will burn.”

“Wait, when did _that_ become part of the plan?” Hijikata asked, attention suddenly focused intensely on Katsura.

“Zura, drink your juice.” Gintoki said, huffing. He didn't like the plan. At all. Mostly because he wasn't involved in it. At all. This was Katsura's and Hijikata's agreement right now, and after the _ordeal_ in the alley, the trust between the three of them was shifty at best. Gintoki trusted Hijikata a little more than he trusted Katsura right now, if he had to be honest. It didn't help that Katsura wouldn't even _look_ at him.

Gintoki couldn't wait until this was all over.

It was clear on Hijikata's face that he wasn't one-hundred percent sure about the plan yet. “How can I trust you'll follow through?” Hijikata asked. He was still as stone, his voice calm and even. “You're telling me you're going to go straight to Nakamura and get me my evidence. It sounds too easy, Zura. And if he threatens you? If he demands to know what you've been up to today? Where you've been? What will you tell him?”

“I don't get a choice in all of this. I was supposed to meet with him after the bombs, so I have to go see him. I _have_ to. I'll… I'll just avoid the question. Just like this. It will only encourage him more.” Katsura said, his voice low. “The only one who can screw this up is you.”

“That won't happen.” Hijikata said sharply. “You can trust me to be there, ready to arrest you. The only one who can screw up is _you_. Don't forget there's a chance you might go in there and come out unharmed.”

“And what do you expect me to do during all of this?” Gintoki asked. “Just hang around and wait for the news to update? Wish you guys luck and hope it all works out? Call me later?”

“Stay with Shinpachi and Kagura.” Katsura said. “Make sure they're okay. I won't drag you down with me anymore.”

“Katsura, you need to promise me you won't get spooked and spill the plan.” Hijikata said. “You go straight to that office, you meet with him, and no matter what he says to you, you do _not_ tell him we've conspired. Do you understand? No matter what he does to you.”

“I won't.” Katsura said. He glanced up to Hijikata. He was sure. Gintoki could see that he was dead sure.

“I don't want any missteps. You execute the plan exactly as you've told me.” Hijikata said.

“I need you to do this just as much as you want to do this, I need you to come get me. I will go to the Chop and Lop. Yamazaki will call you as soon as he sees me. You arrest me the second I come out. I can't screw this up, Hijikata, or I go straight back to him the second I escape your holding cell. I can't do this anymore.” Katsura said quietly. “Promise me you'll come get me. You will get your evidence, and then that Joui you arrested a few weeks ago? Offer him a deal to sell Nakamura out. To sell out the others. Nakamura rules his men with fear so the second Nakamura is off the street, they'll all turn on him. Take his computer. He has videos on there. There's evidence in there.”

Gintoki clicked his tongue, glancing to the ceiling, demanding the blank tiles to give him the patience he needs. “Hijikata, I need you to help him. Don't let this bastard keep doing this to him.”

Hijikata sighed, shoulders finally relaxing. “The both of you are hopeless. Fine. Katsura, the second we get our update on Shinpachi-” his phone suddenly chirped, an incoming text message, “you go straight to the Chop and Lop. And by straight there, I mean _straight_ there. You go in. You come out. I arrest you, I follow your plan from there.” Hijikata sighed, flipping his phone open. “You will be in my care after. I will keep you close, I will keep you safe from him. I will promise you that in exchange.”

Gintoki watched Katsura's throat bob. He finally tore open the straw wrapper, other hand pulling the juice box closer.

“Zura.” Gintoki said. He waited for Katsura to finally look his way, that shy, uncertainty bothering Gintoki more than he thought it would. Katsura glanced over, more nervous facing Gintoki than facing any of this, his attention intense and unwavering. Katsura didn't think Gintoki would forgive him, that much was clear. He didn't think he deserved it, because he had a good hand in creating this mess.

Gintoki was going to forgive him. After. After all of this was said and done, he already knew he'd pull Katsura aside and tell him. If Shinpachi came home okay and Katsura held up at least his end of the plan, all of the following chaos aside, Gintoki knew he would forgive him for this. If Katsura could still stand by Gintoki's side after the war, after Shouyou, then Gintoki could understand and accept this for what it was. Katsura had been given an ultimatum, and regardless of his choice, he'd dragged everyone down with him. He was doing everything he could to save the situation before it became worse.

“You keep your chin up.” Gintoki said. He glanced away finally, attention on Hijikata who was getting up rather quickly.

“They found Shinpachi.” Hijikata said. “He's at the general hospital, they were just admitted.”

“Is he okay?” Gintoki asked, standing up too. He didn't even notice Katsura suck back the juice box like a dying man. “Is he- did they-”

“It's just a precaution.” Hijikata said, flipping his phone shut. He exhaled in relief. “Sougo says he's not hurt. We can go now if you want.”

“Yes!” Gintoki said, glancing back to Katsura for a second. Their gazes met, panic briefly coursing through Gintoki. If this plan went wrong...

Gintoki paused in the middle of the room, eyes turning back to Hijikata. Waiting to forgive be damned. Gintoki really didn't have any impulse control, and he wasn't a role model when it came to making healthy and justified decisions.

“Can I meet you in the car?”  
  
Hijikata glanced over to Katsura, eyes sliding from him back to Gintoki. He understood. “Sure.” Hijikata said. He paused an extra second before pulling Katsura's blade from his belt. Carefully, like the sword might bite, he handed the scabbard to Gintoki. “I'll start the car.”

Gintoki waited that extra second for Hijikata to leave before he turned back around to face Katsura. Moving rather quickly, Gintoki set the blade on the table before dropping to his knees in front of Katsura, who was pulling back in alarm. Gintoki had been aiming for a pointer-finger in Zura's face and some stern words, or maybe a forehead bump and some cheesy heart to heart commentary. But he ended up just pulling Katsura into a full body hug, holding him close. He pressed his face into the crook of Katsura's neck, and let out a shaky breath. Katsura was rock solid for a second, but then he melted into him. Always ready to hug, he wrapped his arms around Gintoki's shoulders, holding him just as close.

Gintoki didn't say anything, didn't have to, his arms tightening around Katsura. He felt more boney than usual, felt like there was less of him than normal. How long had this been going on? It didn't feel like a couple of weeks, it felt like months already. He didn't want to delve into the details again. Didn't want to make comparisons. Who had it worse, who was suffering more, who was responsible for this and who could be excused for that. Katsura was slipping away from him both literally and metaphorically, their friendship just one more thing being ruined in Gintoki's life. Nakamura was taking everything. He'd taken Gintoki's confidence, his pride. His kids. Katsura.

No. Nakamura wasn't getting shit from them. They were either going to fix this or ruin it. Together. Just like they had been since they were kids.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” Katsura's head tilted slightly Gintoki's way. Katsura's cheeks were suddenly warm and wet, the tears catching in Gintoki's hair. He was holding him for dear life, knowing that the second they parted, things would either get better or much worse. Gintoki's chest hadn't ached like this in a long time.

Katsura was sobbing, words incoherent. It sounded like more apologies and self-blame. Gintoki's heart ached.

“Hijikata will come for you.” Gintoki whispered. “He will come for you, and he will bring you back to me.”

Katsura only cried harder.

They sat there, arms around each other until Katsura calmed, a shaky inhale signaling the end of his breakdown. Gintoki finally let him go, holding him at arm's length, his owns eyes totally not misty. “You let Nakamura do his worst.” Gintoki said, words he never thought would leave his mouth. “You give Hijikata the evidence, and then you come to me. We need to sort this out together.”

“Yeah.” Katsura said quietly, wiping his face.

Gintoki took in a deep breath before letting him go, standing up. He gave Katsura one last once-over before forcing himself to turn away. “Take that other juice box for the road.”

 

–

 

“Don't run.” Was the first thing Hijikata said when they stepped through the hospital's rotating doors.

It was the stark whiteness of the hospital, the smell, the bleakness, the soul-sucking atmosphere, that encouraged Gintoki to make his way to the fourth floor as fast as he could. He wasn't _running_ through the halls like Shinpachi was on his death bed or anything. He was briskly walking! There was a difference. When a nurse asked him to slow down, he didn't, making it to Shinpachi's room in record time with Hijikata trailing after him wheezing with his cruddy smoker's lungs.

He pushed open the door to the room Sougo had sent, catching sight of the first commander immediately. He wasn't hidden by the drawn white curtain, sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair at the foot of a bed. He looked completely at ease, which was a good sign. Kagura was talking loudly, nothing more than a shadow behind the curtain, Otae possibly sobbing beside her and quietly responding.

“Hey, am I late?” Gintoki asked. He ducked behind the curtain, eyes instantly on Shinpachi in the bed. “Did you kick ass without me?”

“Gin-san!” Shinpachi exclaimed, a bright smile on his face. He didn't look bad, all things considered. If anything, he looked completely normal. Gintoki's heart constricted, heat rising to his cheeks. “You're late!”

“He ran down the hallway.” Hijikata said from the doorway, out of breath and over-exhausted. “You okay, kid?” He asked, moving beside Sougo with a hand on his hip.

“Yeah.” Shinpachi said and he smiled so bright Gintoki's heart almost melted. “I was just worried, so I asked to be checked out. I don't know what they gave me to knock me unconscious, but they were convinced I was going to die.”

  
Gintoki immediately pulled Kagura out of her chair at Shinpachi's bedside so he could sit down, Kagura started to protest and almost fought him before he pulled Kagura onto his lap. She flopped onto him, legs kicking out dramatically enough that it brought a smile to Otae's face. There were tear marks, her eyes rimmed red, but she had an odd scrunched expression on her face.

Gintoki offered her an easy smile, wondering if she blamed him for all of this. He felt pretty guilty, even though he knew there hadn't been anything he could do to stop it. If she was upset with him, he wouldn't hold that against her.

“They?” Gintoki asked, latching onto the word.

“I already went through it with Sougo.” Shinpachi sighed. He sounded so tired. “A man asked me if I was looking for Sadaharu, and they got me from behind. When I woke up, there were two men discussing me because the leader sounded convinced I was going to die.”

“Their mistakes was drugging the human and not the glasses!” Kagura said, turning to Gintoki. She suddenly blinked, blue eyes wide as she stared. The silence suddenly settled, Otae also glancing his way.

“Wow.” Kagura said. Her smile dimmed, her hand slapping onto his face and grabbing his cheek. “Your face looks terrible. You become a vampire overnight?”

Gintoki scoffed, shaking her hand off, still stuck on Shinpachi. “Did you see any of their faces? Do you know who they were or what they wanted?”

“I've gotten the full report already, he's already gone through this three times. He's going to file a report for us.” Sougo said, gesturing towards a bunch of papers on the bedside table. “They used three zip-ties on him. He didn't see their faces. He snuck out while they were distracted. They gave him a full tablet of something that his captors believed would kill him and the doctors have yet to identify it and why it didn't, well, kill him. After escaping, he borrowed a pair of scissors from a nearby shop lady to cut himself free and then made his way home. We found him on our way back to the house. Sound about right, glasses-boy?”

“Y-yeah.” Shinpachi nodded. He glanced down to his lap. Gintoki wondered what part of the story the kid wasn't telling. _They didn't touch you, did they?_ God, if they had, Gintoki would die. Literally. His soul would just evaporate and disappear into Hell.

Gintoki sighed, melting into the chair. He really hoped Shinpachi wasn't leaving anything important out, wasn't shying away from details just because he was embarrassed or ashamed. But if he had been touched, the doctors would have noticed, right? Suddenly, it was like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. A minor weight in the grand scheme of this mess. There was still so much to worry about, but Shinpachi was safe and that was all Gintoki had been asking for. The kids' safety was the only miracle he was asking for. He would take everything Nakamura threw at him as long as the kids remained safe. Leaning into his hand, Gintoki closed his eyes.

“You said he got the address?” Hijikata asked, slowly moving to stand beside Gintoki's chair.

“Yup.” Sougo said. “We going to send a car down and check the place out?”

“Later.” Hijikata said, leaning against the armrest. “We'll stay here for right now.”

“Gin-san.” Shinpachi said, glancing over. His voice was oddly timid. He was fidgeting with his hands, eyes down. “I remembered what you taught me. If they didn't know I was awake, I'd have the advantage. Never bargain first, right? I was patient, waited until they left me alone before I escaped. It worked.”

“You have no idea how glad I am you did that.” Gintoki sighed out, his eyes getting bleary. What would have happened if Shinpachi had drawn attention to himself? What would have happened if they had realized he wasn't dying? Would they have hurt him? Or worse?

It was a close call, but Gintoki wouldn't dare ask for an ending any better than this.

Shinpachi shifted again. “Can I have a hug?”

Gintoki was graceful enough not to throw Kagura off him. But he was fast about it nonetheless, reaching over and bundling Shinpachi in a tight hug after grumbling about how he didn't think it was necessary and all that. He bundled Shinpachi up in his arms and held him close.

“I was scared.” Shinpachi whispered. “I didn't tell them how scared I was.”

Gintoki swallowed thick. “It's okay to be scared.” He said quietly, before pulling back, holding Shinpachi at arm's length. “You did well.”

Shinpachi beamed, teeth bared and eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Dog pile!” Kagura yelled, jumping on Gintoki's back and crashing him back into Shinpachi, the three of them all hugging. Otae started to laugh before joining the pile, absolutely crushing Shinpachi.

“Kagura, you're getting heavy! Get off!” Gintoki said, trying to come off as playful even though his back was screaming in pain. “You need to stop eating so much damn seaweed!”

“Nuh-uh! Not getting up!” Kagura said, squeezing harder. She let up when Gintoki suddenly groaned, a hand going to his hip. When he tried to pull back, she let him. “Geez, you're getting old, Gin-chan. Didn't momma teach you to take better care of yourself? You need to take your glucosamine.”

“Shut up, where did you even learn that word?” Gintoki asked, sliding out of the dog pile. He stood up, hand on his hip before sinking back into his chair, more pain everywhere. He really couldn't wait for _this_ to be over. If Nakamura touches him inappropriately one more time, Gintoki thinks he's going to crack the man's spine over the nearest surface. (Before crushing his dick with his bare hands.) Hijikata glanced over in worry, but Gintoki must have been making a fond expression because the officer didn't say anything.

“We're gonna play UNO!” Kagura said, crawling into the bed with Shinpachi and adjusting the blankets so she got some too. Otae sat back in her own chair, fresh tears in her eyes as she reached for the cards on the bedside table.

“I'm not playing.” Hijikata said immediately, arms crossed. “No way.”

“Because you always lose.” Sougo said, scooting his chair closer. “Count me in.”

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Hijikata's phone rang. It was time.

 

–

 

Katsura stood at Nakamura's office door in the Chop and Lop, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He could hear his blood rushing in his temples, could already feel the weakness in his knees. Inside his sleeve, his fingers toyed with the edge of the list Nakamura had written him the other day. The names of the Amanto that he had told Katsura to bomb, in his handwriting with the explicit instructions at the top like some middle-school homework. It was going to be evidence whenever Katsura finished this meeting. Katsura's body was going to be evidence. If Nakamura wanted to be treated as a Joui leader, he would go down like a Joui leader too.

Staring at the door still, he was glad Gintoki made him drink that juice box earlier. His head was already spinning and without the sugar, he might have already been down on his knees passing out. The brain fog was terrible, his thoughts sluggish, his attention wavering. Honestly, Katsura wouldn't be surprised if he ended up passing out anyway. The last time he ate was… _well_.

With a deep breath, Katsura slowly turned the handle and entered Nakamura's office. This was it. This was going to be the last time, and it needed to be the worst. The absolute worst.

At his desk, Nakamura glanced up from a spread of papers he was working through. He looked like he was in a bad mood already, which was both good and bad. “Katsura.” He said, eyes narrowed. He threw down his pen, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “Took you long enough. You realize you're technically late, right?”

Raising his chin, Katsura strode into the room with more confidence than he felt, sitting down. He made sure to keep his tone neutral and disinterested. He would get what he came here for. He needed to. “You wished to see me after the bombs?”

Nakamura huffed. “By after, I meant immediately after. Not hours later. Good job on the bombs, Zura, but is there a reason you're so late?”

Katsura shrugged, swallowing down his nervousness. He wasn't nervous because of what was about to happen, but because he didn't really want to make Nakamura mad. The longer he sat there, the more fidgety he got. But he'd promised Hijikata evidence, and he would get it. This wouldn't be all for nothing. “Of course.” He said rather snidely. He left it at that.

Nakamura stared at him, eyes slowly narrowing. Katsura knew he was considering his options right now, considering how to proceed. They were playing a rather delicate game now, teetering between success and failure. Katsura was finally listening to him, had done as asked with the bombs, and Nakamura wouldn't risk ruining that by threatening Gintoki or the kids. But Katsura had defied him, had waited longer than strictly necessary to come to him. It looked like Katsura was testing his bounds again, obeying but rebelling at the same time. What would Nakamura do about it? That was the question right now. What was he going to do to reign Katsura back in, while reinforcing his obedience? Katsura really hoped it was physical. Not because he wanted it, but he needed the proof.

 _There are no more chances after this. Any back-talking and I'll fuck you just like that._ Katsura was counting on it. As much as he didn't want to do it, as much as the idea made his stomach roll, he needed Nakamura's DNA all over him. In him. There couldn't be a shred of doubt about what was happening between them. He was going to reduce himself to mere evidence just so Hijikata could confiscate his computer and dig up everything he needed to dig up to stop him. Nakamura was dirty. He was so damn dirty he could get himself jailed for years all on his own. Katsura just needed to be the excuse to bring that dirt to light.

“Why did you come now, hours after the last bomb was placed?” Nakamura asked again, more stern. He sounded a little angrier, and Katsura could run with that. No problem. Making people mad or annoyed was almost a talent of his.

Katsura considered his answer very carefully. Sweat rolled down the back of his neck. “Because I can.”

Nakamura stared at him, mouth twitching in the corner. Rolling his eyes, he chuckled. “Fine. You did as asked, but don't think you can push the bounds like that in the future. Now. My next job for you.”

Katsura's hands were shaking. Absolutely quivering in his lap because there was also a very good chance he would come out of here empty-handed and Hijikata would arrest him _without_ solid evidence all over him. Katsura was over examining every word he said, every movement Nakamura made. He was stressing, stressing so much that his ears were ringing.

“Job?” Katsura asked. His voice quivered and mentally he demanded himself to stop.

“Yeah.” Nakamura said. He was scrutinizing him, eyes never leaving Katsura's face. He smiled, all teeth. “You feeling alright over there? You look like you've seen a ghost. Maybe you need to take a day off, Zura. A sick day. Leave me in charge of the Joui for a few hours. I'm sure I could stir up some trouble, get the guys a little more organized. They'll see that you trusted me, they'll see me as superior. A step in the right direction, Zura.”

“I'm not doing anymore jobs for you. You can't take charge of the Joui anyway, it doesn't work like that.” Katsura said, his tone determined yet wavering at the same time. “No more bombs.”

“Oh?” Nakamura asked, eyebrow raising. He sighed, standing up. “ _Katsura._ Just because you listened to me once doesn't mean you're free to do whatever you like now. You did good, Zura. Good job with the bombs, honestly. You've earned Gintoki his temporary freedom and the kids too, and I'll let up on you a little bit. No harm today, alright? Your friends won't be touched. You won't be touched. But this attitude, I'm only going to overlook it as long as you stop right now, okay?” He asked, moving to lean against his desk right in front of Katsura.

“You are the one who needs to stop.” Katsura said. “You're not going to win over the Joui like this, you're not going to win them over at all. I'm not taking a sick day and I'm not doing any more errands for you. No more bombs, either.”

“Then why did you place so many today, Zura?” Nakamura asked. He smiled pleasantly, that nice face of his looking deceptively trustworthy. “Do you know what your kill count was at today? You did so well. And suddenly, you've had enough now? Zura, are you feeling alright lately? You're all over the place, I've been worried about you.”

Katsura stood up from his chair. He drew his blade, that same edge that had been wrongfully pulled on Hijikata now level with Nakamura's throat, but he stood up too fast, he swayed. The blade wavered. Nakamura didn't look concerned. “I've had enough of you.”

Nakamura's eyes widened. A second later, his smile widened too. He raised an eyebrow, not moving away from the blade. His voice didn't even falter. “Remember what you told me the other night? I asked you if you got it. You told me you get it. I'm guessing you don't get it anymore?”

Katsura almost balked, his eyes on Nakamura's hands as they gently raised to the sword, pinching it from the blunt side and pulling it away from his throat. The blade moved easily, Katsura's hands unsteady.

“No. I don't get it.” Katsura said, eyes blinking. His vision was swimming, his pulse thrumming. His sword was visibly shaking and he needed to calm down. “And you're not going to remind me.”

“Good grief. Again?” Nakamura laughed. He sighed then, more disappointed than angry, pushing the blade lower. “Katsura, give me your sword.”

“No.”

“Give it.” Nakamura said, standing from the desk. He reached forward, his hand covering Katsura's own, the blade steadying. He glanced down in amusement, his hand warm and gentle. He glanced back up to Katsura, his eyes just as kind and caring. “Don't make me take it from you.”

Katsura made him. He refused to give it up, but he didn't strike him, didn't even try to. Not even as Nakamura pried his fingers from the hilt, confiscating the blade and placing it behind him on his desk. With his hand still over Katsura's, Nakamura pulled him closer. He grabbed Katsura's other hand, holding both of them gently in his own.

“What are you trying to do here?” Nakamura asked, his voice a low purr. His thumbs were sliding over Katsura's skin, comforting. And then he suddenly squinted just as Katsura got lightheaded like perhaps all of the colour drained from Katsura's face. “Katsura, honey, are you feeling okay?”  
  
He hasn't been feeling okay for a while, but he wasn't about to tell Nakamura that. Instead, he just stood there and stared, his mind foggy and blank.

He was going to screw this up. Katsura's worry magnified tenfold, a full body tremor starting up. He wasn't going to be able to get Hijikata the evidence he had promised him. Wouldn't walk out of here with Nakamura all over him because Nakamura simply wasn't going to hurt him. He wouldn't be able to give Hijikata the indisputable evidence he had asked for, would be able to manipulate Nakamura at his own game, enrage him into harming him. Instead, Katsura was going to walk out of here unscathed for once, and Nakamura was going to get away with this. Everything.

Nakamura was watching him with a sadistic sort of glee, a smile lighting up his face. His hands slid up Katsura's forearms, holding them steady. “Zura, you're shaking.”

Katsura needed this evidence so bad. He closed his eyes, tried to breathe, tried to calm his frazzled nerves, but he only made it worse. His head was spinning, Nakamura's excessive voice sounded like it was under water again, and Katsura felt himself sway. He was messing up. He was screwing it up. And it had been his own damn plan. He had been so _sure_. His vision suddenly spotted, his heartbeat louder than anything else. He felt himself fall.

On his back on the floor, Katsura came back to his senses. Confused, he glanced to the ceiling, a headache spearing straight through his skull. Nakamura was kneeling over him, his smile a little more predatory than usual. The back of his knuckles were sliding down Katsura's cheek, words already coming out of the man's damn mouth.

“You fainted.” Nakamura said quietly like he genuinely cared. “You've been really stressed lately. I understand. It's okay. You're okay.”

Katsura swallowed but his mouth was painfully dry. Stubbornly, he tried to sit up but Nakamura held him down by his shoulder, shushing him. The panic was washing over him again. He really just wanted to go home.

“Losing control is hard, Zura, isn't it?” Nakamura asked. He brushed his knuckles back over his cheek, ghosting over the bruise. “Have you been eating? Sleeping enough? Do you dream about me, or have I been keeping you up at night? Good dreams, I hope.”

Katsura abruptly knocked his hand away from his face, a sharp glare turned to Nakamura. He struggled to sit up again, his head going light immediately. He pushed forward anyway, sitting up slowly. “Shut up.”

“You push yourself too far.” Nakamura said. He sounded amused, his hand going back for Katsura's face. “You practically ask for men like me to take advantage of you.”

Katsura struck him, the same cheek Nakamura had bruised. The slap echoed in the office, the silence following it deafening. Nakamura had a hand up to his face, his glasses knocked right off and on the floor because Katsura had hit him way harder than he had intended too. So hard that his palm was burning, hand shivering in the air. Well. If Nakamura hadn't been angry before, he would be now.

“You deserved that.” Katsura said, not sure where the confidence in his voice was coming from. “Don't think you didn't deserve that! You do not _touch_ me.”

Nakamura seemed to come out of his stupor, his face surprisingly neutral, fingers still pressed to his reddening cheek. His lip quirked in the corner, lids going heavy.  
  
“You think you can get away with everything you've done to me?” Katsura asked, his voice rising. “You think you can just sit here and talk to me like this? That I'm going to slowly break and crumble beneath your feet? You didn't think for even a second that I might turn on you if you pushed me too far? Are you completely stupid or do you just choose to ignore the signs because if you don't seem them, they don't exist? Who's the real fucking coward here? If you want the Joui, or even a handpicked group better than your fuckwits, you're going to have to straighten yourself out-”

Nakamura struck him – closed fist this time, this wasn't an open-palm kind of relationship anymore – catching Katsura in the jaw and sending him back down to the carpet. Katsura didn't have time to retaliate, Nakamura was straddling him, Katsura's hands pinned beneath his knees before Katsura could even catch up to what was happening. Nakamura hit him again, splitting Katsura's bottom lip, breathless in excitement as he drew his fist back.

Nakamura reached over then, gingerly picking up his glasses and sliding them back onto his face. Katsura was heaving, head turned to the side. He closed his eyes, tongue darting out to press against the blood beading from his bottom lip.

Hijikata promised to come for him, to wait for him on the other side of that door. Gintoki promised that Hijikata would bring him back. With shaky resolve, Katsura opened his eyes and turned to Nakamura, the man looking just as livid as he had the day he had shown up on Katsura's doorstep. Katsura took in a deep breath. He needed Nakamura's worse, and judging by the strain in Nakamura's jeans, Nakamura _really_ liked hitting him.

With a deep breath, Nakamura's disgusting voice came out low and threatening. “You have some nerve-”

Katsura spit in his face.


	15. Just Because You Understand Something Doesn't Mean You Truly Get It

“Now?” Sougo asked, foot tapping impatiently. They had the alley to the Chop and Lop surrounded, all doors and windows covered. There was no way Katsura was going to be able to leave the Chop and Lop without getting arrested, no way they would let Nakamura slip the radar either. It was starting to get dark, of course, and that was when things went wrong simply due to lack of visibility. It made Hijikata fidget.

“Wait.” Hijikata said, arms crossed. He had responded to Yamazaki's call, and that was all there officially was to it. _Katsura has just entered the Chop and Lop._ That was enough to warrant an arrest, and Katsura's escape record was enough to warrant half the Shinsengumi to show up to make said arrest. Now, it was just a matter of waiting. Hijikata's reason for waiting the man out instead of barging right in? He 'didn't want Katsura to escape during the confusion of a raid'. It had happened before, Katsura slipping away during a messy ambush, they were simply trying a new tactic tonight. They would surround him, get him the second he came out, and then arrest everyone inside. And then Hijikata would give the report and everything would add up and all of this would be over.

Or so he hoped. This had been Katsura's plan. So why was it taking so long?

It had been over an hour. Hijikata had smoked two cigarettes already, was starting to fidget, starting to worry that something had gone wrong, or something was _going_ wrong. That Katsura hadn't kept his end of the deal, and the Chop and Lop was actually empty right now. Nakamura and Katsura and everyone inside had snuck away via some secret underground passage or something.

But then the backdoor swung open, and Katsura stepped outside. He stood tall, hands casually at his side as he slowly stepped away from the door into the alley.

Sougo didn't hesitate. “Katsura Kotarou! You're under arrest! Hands in the air!”

The Shinsengumi drew their swords and rushed in, the groups pre-instructed to do what needed to be done. Hijikata went with Sougo, both him and the first commander reaching Katsura at the same time. Katsura didn't even move, his face blank and sporting more colors than he had left the Shimura's with.

“I have him.” Hijikata said, hand landing on Katsura's forearm, his eyes shooting down to the sword hanging from his hip warily. Katsura swayed beneath his hand.

Slowly, Katsura grabbed the sword, both Shinsengumi officers backing off – Hijikata was spooked a foot away in an instant with his sword drawn – but Katsura simply let his scabbard clatter to the ground at his feet, out of reach. Simply raised his hands to his head after, his eyes blank. He even dropped down to his knees for them.

“Looking a little rough, Katsura.” Sougo commented as he moved closer, blade still drawn in case something went wrong. His eyes were scrutinizing.

Without saying anything, Hijikata grabbed Katsura's arms one at a time to cuff them. Katsura had a split lip and a faraway look in his eyes. He didn't even respond as Hijikata cuffed his hands behind his back for the second time that night. Didn't have anything to say as Hijikata hauled him unsteadily to his feet.

“Go make sure everyone inside is accounted for.” Hijikata said, eyes sliding over to Sougo.

Sougo nodded, his gaze flickering back to Katsura. He hesitated, but he turned away silently, disappearing through the back door of the Chop and Lop.

“You get the evidence?” Hijikata asked quietly, pulling Katsura away from the door towards one of the waiting cruisers. Katsura was light in his arms, stumbling along with him. It left Hijikata feeling a little unnerved. He'd seen Katsura back in that alley, and only now was it really hitting him that Nakamura was more powerful than he had previously thought.

Katsura nodded, a simple bob of his head. When Hijikata pushed him into the undercover car, when Katsura's face came into view, Hijikata realized he was crying. The silent, heavy, miserable kind with locked teeth and deliberate breathing to try and keep it hidden. His face was sopping wet. It was the kind that was contagious and made other people cry. Weeping in the backseat, something ached in Hijikata's heart.

“Hey. Hey, you're okay.” Hijikata moved into the doorway, blocking him from any prying eyes, hand heavy on Katsura's shoulder. He didn't move it, didn't rub circles. He was just there, a safe presence that wasn't asking Katsura for anything right now. Katsura didn't shove him off, leaned more his way instead, the choking sobs becoming more audible.

The second Sougo came out with Nakamura cuffed and in tow, Hijikata pulled away. He closed the door so the bastard couldn't see Katsura weep, spinning around and leaning back against the door with vigilance.

There Nakamura was, the man who had caused so much discord in less than two weeks, who had been the hand to take so many lives, making eye contact with Hijikata as he was led to another waiting cruiser. He had a nice face, Hijikata would give him that. He looked a lot better than Hijikata thought he would. Trustable. Kind. His clothes were a little rumpled from where Hijikata stood, significantly less than perfect but Hijikata didn't doubt the man was usually impeccable. Nakamura's eyes flickered from Hijikata to the car he was leaning against.

The bastard smirked.

Not bothering to wait for Sougo, Hijikata got into the car and adjusted his rear-view mirror before he couldn't stop himself from going over there and yelling. Katsura wasn't looking at him, but that was fine. The extremist had left Hijikata in control, had trusted him to make the decisions when Katsura knew he wouldn't be able to, and Hijikata had promised to keep him in his care. Nakamura was getting canned. This was over.

“You're getting a medical check.” Hijikata informed, just in case Katsura had forgotten it had been part of the plan. He didn't hesitate before starting the car, his eyes on Katsura in the back seat. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

It took a moment for Katsura to respond, but the gentle nod of his head was enough to make Hijikata's heart constrict again.

 

–

 

In the not-so-comfortable chair of yet _another_ hospital room – his third one in two days, he bitterly realized – Hijikata sighed, sinking into the hard cushion with his head tilted back so he could drearily stare at the ceiling. He wasn't sure if refusing the medical check had been a part of Katsura's plan, but refusing meant Hijikata had eventually had to slam Katsura into the wall and pin him there just so he could be sedated.

The list of problems was longer than Hijikata thought it was. Katsura looked small in the bed, white sheets washing him out just like they had Gintoki, tubes and wires hooked up to him. His skin pale and starting to turn purple and black in various areas. When Katsura had admitted Nakamura was hurting him, Hijikata hadn't expected it to be this bad.

The door to the room suddenly opened, quiet footsteps entering the private room.

Sighing again, Hijikata sat up, glancing over his shoulder, ready to throw them out. He'd already kicked out a police officer and an over-eager journalist. The media was already all over this, trying to get information. As of right now, the news only knew there had been a raid at the Chop and Lop and that 'Katsura and affiliates' had been arrested.

It was only a matter of time before this all got out.

It was Sougo. He moved towards the end of the bed as Hijikata settled back into his chair, the first commander's arms crossed and his expression oddly stoic. It didn't look like he was taking his usual sadistic pleasure in this. Instead, it was possible the first commander looked a little angry. Hijikata wondered what the state of Nakamura was down at the station where Sougo had taken him. They had twenty-four hours to prove Nakamura and Zura were in cahoots, and then they could hold Nakamura until he was drowning in charges and crimes.

“How is he?” Sougo asked.

“Bad.” Hijikata groaned, cheek in his hand. “We have to wait for evidence to process now but the list is long.”

“He was raped.” Sougo said. It didn't sound like a question, he was simply stating it and he wasn't happy about it. “I've got the report on Nakamura. The evidence is being processed too. He had scratches all down his back, blood on his dick, and a nasty bite on his hand. I'd say they had a business disagreement, but looking at Zura, I'm more inclined to think this has been going on for a while now.” Sougo glanced over to Hijikata then. Hijikata clicked his tongue. The first commander _knew_. “How long has this been going on, Hijikata?”

Hijikata sighed, eyes closing. “Long enough that he is dehydrated and severely malnourished. They pulled skin out from his nails amongst other things in his hair. Everywhere. It will all be Nakamura's.”

“Hijikata.” Sougo said. “What does this have to do with Gintoki?”

Hijikata glanced to him then, tired eyes slit open. Sougo was staring at him, the annoyance of being left out of the loop clear on his face. He knew. He was piecing things together, coming to understand that whatever this was, Hijikata had been involved much longer than any of them knew.

“It has nothing to do with Gintoki.” Hijikata said, conveying that it certainly did have something to do with Gintoki but that was never going to be official. Just like every _other_ time something had to do with Gintoki.

“And what about Shinpachi?”

Hijikata groaned, eyes closed again. “How is he?”

“They released him. He's okay.” Sougo said. “He went down to the police station to file a report with Boss. The zip-ties and drugs match the Red Circle's MO. Doctor thinks the kid had a natural resistance to the drug and that's why he wasn't really affected. It could also have something to do with his age, they're still trying to figure out how it works. What's the deal with that?”

“I don't know yet.” Hijikata said. “Did you confiscate Nakamura's computer?”

“What does Nakamura have to do with Shinpachi?” Sougo asked.

Hijikata clicked his tongue. He needed a cigarette. And some mayonnaise. And a nap would be nice too. What a damn long week.

“I know it's related Hijikata, you might as well just tell me before I have to start digging to figure it out myself. Yamazaki is balls deep in Nakamura's computer right now, and even he seems to know more than I do.” Sougo said. He moved closer to the chair, eyes still on Hijikata. “What is all of this? Since we showed up to Kagura's surprise party, since Boss disappeared that day before the first bomb, you've all been sneaking around.”

Hijikata chuckled because yes, yes they sure had been. “It's complicated.”

“Hijikata.”

Hijikata sighed. Sougo might be a brat but he was loyal. He also had a bad habit of clearly picking sides.

Shrugging, Hijikata tried to find the words to simplify the situation into one sentence. One sentence that would explain everything? _Good luck._ “Nakamura wants to lead the Joui.” He said because that's what it all came down to, didn't it?

“And?” Sougo asked.

“And.” Hijikata said, gesturing towards Katsura.

They stood in silence for a moment, Sougo pondering the basic explanation, eyes roaming, arms still crossed. He must have considered how _he_ would have gone about leading the Joui, must have gotten the gist of it because he suddenly looked angry.

Eventually, he turned to Hijikata, his face a little more serious than before. “When Nakamura's matched to Zura, when we can suspect he's affiliated with Joui, we'll have reason to search his house.” Sougo said. “I'll lead the team.”

“The computers are the most important. You should also talk to that Joui we arrested again too.” Hijikata said as an afterthought. “Offer him a deal to sell out Nakamura, sell out anyone helping him.”

“Who is Nakamura anyway?” Sougo asked.

Hijikata shrugged. “Just some owner of a crappy barber shop.”

Sougo snorted. “If he was just some guy, Katsura wouldn't be half dead in a hospital bed. You saw the way he walked out of there. Hijikata-”

“Nakamura needs to be put away.” Hijikata said, a headache starting. He closed his eyes, the lights suddenly too bright. “This is bigger than just Katsura, Sougo, we need to find whatever we can to lock him away. I'm going to stay until Zura wakes up. I'll take his statement. It's not like he can press charges, he's one of the most wanted criminals in the country, but we can still use everything he says to further an investigation and pin Nakamura for the bombings.”

“Actually, about that. I'm going to take over this watch of yours and stay for a little bit.” Sougo said. He turned away, his voice a little odd. “Nakamura requested to speak to you personally.”

“Me?” Hijikata asked, glancing up. His heart rate suddenly spiked, his knowledge of how Nakamura liked to _speak_ to people at the forefront of his mind. He knew better than to underestimate this man. He needed to walk into that meeting ready to defend himself.

Sougo hummed in agreement. “He wants to talk to you before he talks to anyone else.”

“I'll wait until the DNA comes in.” Hijikata said. What was this anxiety in his stomach? “I'm not going in there without at least _some_ hard evidence.”

 

–

 

This man, Hijikata realized as he sat down at the table opposite of Nakamura, was absolutely disgusting.

Nakamura was smiling pleasantly, and by pleasantly Hijikata means he had the urge to smile back. All nice white teeth and a pretty face, the kind of guy you instantly take to, despite the hefty folder Hijikata slapped down on the table. He was a pretty boy, damn it. If Hijikata had been drunk in public and this man had offered to walk him home, Hijikata _knew_ he would go with him. He looked trustworthy. His hair was neat, those glasses giving him a mature look despite the younger face. There was the shadow of a bruise on his cheek, but the man still looked good. If this man had come to the police for a job, Hijikata wouldn't have thought twice that he might be dirty.

It pissed Hijikata off.

“Nakamura.” Hijikata said, leaning back in the chair for a moment. He kept his expression neutral. “You wished to speak with me.” With the blinds drawn and the camera off. No lawyer, just the two of them. Hijikata had a bad feeling.

“Hijikata. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.” Nakamura said, his voice lilting pleasantly. Damn it, he even sounded trustworthy. Charismatic, no wonder he had lured Katsura in. No wonder Gintoki had gone with him. “I had a few things I wanted to get out of the way before you start the official interrogation process.”

“And that is?”

Nakamura's eyebrow rose as he leaned his elbows on the table, his fingers pyramiding together just beneath his chin like some Anime villain. “Well first of all, how is Zura doing? He left my office feeling rather… unwell.”

Hijikata didn't even respond. “Let's get straight to business, Nakamura.”

“Right. Straight to business.” Nakamura said, still grinning. “No wonder the three of you are friends, you have so much in common already. And how's Gintoki doing?”

This time, Hijikata had to force himself not to respond. “Business, Nakamura.”

“But this _is_ business.” Nakamura said, grinning. “Because if Zura thinks he's going to drag me down with him for all of this, then I'm just going to have to take you and Gintoki down with me in the fall.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Shiroyasha is friends with the Shinsengumi. Isn't that problematic?” Nakamura asked, eyes narrowed like he didn't expect Hijikata to already know about Gintoki's past. “Don't you have a job to do, to uphold the law?”

“My job is to deal with the Amanto.” Hijikata said simply. God, did Nakamura talk like this all the time? Hijikata was already blowing a fuse. He needed a coffee. And a smoke. And to leave a darker bruise on this man's face than Katsura had managed to. He clicked his teeth, holding back anything else because he did _not_ need to explain himself to this man, and the more he said the more Nakamura could use.

“You know, Katsura's the one who kept coming back to me. And you know, you Shinsengumi are the ones who haven't done a very good job in cleaning the Joui off the streets. What's the big deal if a man like Zura gets roughed up a little?” Nakamura laughed. “It's not a big deal unless you care about him. If anything, I think I've done a better job at managing him than you guys have.”

“By physically subduing him? We are the special police, we send men like you to jail. We don't abuse you.” Hijikata snapped, trying to reign in his anger. “Nakamura. The evidence we pulled off of him suggests that you are either his equal or a step higher. It's clear who has been in control. And because of the bombings, you're being treated like a top-tier terrorist. Your sentence might even be longer than Katsura's. Isn't that what you wanted?”

“What sentence?” Nakamura asked. “I'm going to have a conversation with my lawyer after we're done talking, Hijikata, and he's going to get me out of here. And you? You're not going to do anything to stop it.”

Hijikata patted his folder, indisputable evidence at the ready. Katsura's tests had all come back – with a little insistence on Hijikata's part – and after sifting through them, Hijikata had been quaking with anger. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Nakamura said. “You've confiscated my work computer, I assume? You won't find much there, but my home computer? Well. You'll get everything you want and need to convict me, but I'll have everything I want and need to convict you too.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean photo evidence of the lovely Chief of Police and Katsura sharing a meal together, at worst. It would have been better if they were banging, but I have enough photo evidence to _at least_ open an investigation. Kondou's so nice, is that how Zura won him over? They must have a 'you scratch my back, I scratch yours' kind of relationship. I'm sure with enough digging, someone will talk. There's going to be suspicious incidents, evidence that doesn't quite match. Decisions that indicate you were tipped off but never admitted it. And that first commander of yours, too. What's Gintoki's little girl's name? Kagura? He gets awfully handsy with a minor, don't you think? Or did you not know? Not only could I ruin his reputation, but I'm sure his more sadistic approaches to interrogations could get him at least fired, if not jailed. I have proof of those too, seeing how he personally beat one of my men a few years ago. And you and Gintoki. You know he's the Shiroyasha, right? What's the special police doing, hanging around war criminals? Excusing his crimes like you excuse that sword on his belt. And that's not even the worst I have.”

If this bastard talked to Katsura like this, Hijikata wasn't sure why he hadn't been gutted yet. What a fucking mouth, he had. Hijikata did his best to remain indifferent. He wasn't worried, Nakamura was just spewing out words right now to spook him, but if he _did_ have evidence of any kind, that could change _everything_.

“I wanted to make a deal with you, Hijikata.” Nakamura said. He was grinning like he had already won. “I know you won't agree yet, not until you go through my laptop's contents and see for yourself, but here it is. When my lawyer pulls my 'get out of jail free' card, you're not going to challenge it. Let me go. Any poking or prodding or extra investigating will land you in more trouble than Katsura's worth. And in exchange, the Shinsengumi won't be targeted when the Joui really do start taking to me. You should know by now that I am capable of getting what I want. I could even have _you_  if I so desired. And trust me, you know what I mean by 'have'. I've already thought about it.”

Hijikata narrowed his eyes, mouth closed. “Are you threatening a police officer in an interrogation room?”

“A room with just me and you and no recording devices.” Nakamura said, eyelids fluttering. “Even if you have a recorder in your pocket, Hijikata, you can't use it against me. You're head over heels for the Shiroyasha, I can see it. You're actively sneaking around, making deals with terrorists. One could say you're corrupt. You use that recording against me, you get investigated in return, and everything comes to light. How many laws have the Shinsengumi broken, to protect friends over the Amanto? And if you somehow avoid scrutiny, I will just have all that blackmail sent to a different police station. Hell, you saw Zura's photos online. Would be hard for the police to sweep it under the rug if the Shinsengumi's dirty deeds were posted everywhere.”

So it was like this. “How the hell did Zura put up with you for so long?”

“The same reason you're going to put up with me. See, you still think you're in control Hijikata. You think you can keep both Zura and Gintoki safe. This is my favorite part, the part where you realize there might actually be nothing you can do to help them. That you're going to watch your friends suffer, you're going to watch them go down with me and there's nothing you can do unless you sacrifice yourself and everyone you care about. You're going to waste all of this time just like Zura coming up with elaborate plans to stop me, but I'm going to come in with a trump card every step of the way.” Nakamura said. “Shinsengumi aside, you and Zura share a common interest, Hijikata. Gintoki is easy if you know how to play him. Give me some time, and I'll have him willingly bending at the waist for me too. In front of you, even. I think if I threaten you, he'd do it, him in exchange for your purity? He'd probably suck me off without biting, too. And there would be nothing you'd be able to do to stop me.”

Hijikata's lip twitched. This guy.

Nakamura chuckled. “Speaking of that, wouldn't you like to know? How many times I've had Gintoki and how? Did he tell you? I have thirteen videos of him, you know. Three of them are personal videos, but the others are ripe and ready to be used to control or sell, whichever comes first. You know he tries to stay quiet. If you ever do manage to snag him after all the damage I've done, Hijikata, he sure makes you work for your pleasure. But it's worth it.”

Hijikata wondered if Nakamura planned to die today. Hijikata wondered how many years he'd get for slashing him right there and now and instantly taking care of this problem. But Hijikata suddenly realized why Katsura hadn't been able to gut him in the first place. Why Hijikata's fist was so tight his blunt nails were cutting into his palms because there was nothing he could say or do.

Suddenly, Hijikata realized he hadn't understood the situation. He had known, he had understood that Nakamura came into these meetings with everything he had, but Hijikata hadn't truly _got it_ until right now.

Nakamura had every square on the chessboard covered. It didn't matter what move Hijikata made, Nakamura was right there waiting to take out every single piece. Nakamura had faced Katsura ready for anything and everything. _How long has he been planning this?_

“I will admit Gin-chan fought me every step of the way until we had him easy and moaning from the drugs, but it was still the best lay I've had.” Nakamura said, his grin turning downright sadistic. “And Zura. Did he tell you I didn't even _have_ to drug him? He's terrible when you make him take control, but he's good when he lets you push him around. It's that stubbornness that gets me, he doesn't go down without a fight but when he does give in, when he gives up? It's beautiful Hijikata, to have that kind of power over him? It's so satisfying. And to be completely honest, I don't think you'd be as stubborn as them, should the opportunity arise. You wouldn't last long without the drugs, I don't think. I'd break you in a heartbeat, and that would break Gintoki just as fast.”

Hijikata's jaw was clamped so tight his teeth hurt. He was seeing red. “All of this, just for the Joui?”

“Oh ho, I see Zura has been telling you things.” Nakamura laughed. “Yes, Hijikata. I want the Joui. Honestly, I don't really _want_ them, I just need them to rid this country of the Amanto and I am willing to spend the rest of my life on this mission. Zura has been doing a shit job for the past couple of years, and I want to walk down the street in my old age to see humanity not contaminated by space. It's disgusting.”

Hijikata's phone buzzed in his pocket. He decided he'd had enough. “That's nice. Do you have anything else to say to me?”

“Oh, you're leaving so soon?” Nakamura asked pleasantly. “I guess I should send you my regards. What happens next is your choice, after all. I'd wait until you see the contents on my laptop. Might be a deal breaker. And just remember I'm smart enough to have a backup, should any of those files mysteriously go missing. It would only incriminate you further. Tampering with evidence could get the evidence thrown out, you know.”

Hijikata huffed, standing up. “We'll see. You're being held, regardless.”

“And Hijikata.” Nakamura called just as Hijikata got up and turned away.

There was a buzz in Hijikata's fingertips, like a live wire ready to electrocute everything it touched to death. He swore to the heavens above and the sun and the clouds and the ground in which he walked upon, that if Nakamura continued talking, he would rip the man's tongue out with his bare hands.

“Should you displease me, you also risk the children too.” Nakamura said.

Fucking. Shit. Holy Mayonnaise. Hijikata huffed a humorless laugh and left.

On the other side of the door, his face morphed into hot anger, teeth bared and hands clenched. How the hell did Katsura put up with that voice for two weeks? No wonder he ended up such a mess. And Gintoki, no wonder he had refused to press charges, it would have just made the situation worse. Nakamura had a way out of everything. What a damn weasel. He was lucky Katsura hadn't slit him open. Or perhaps he was _unlucky_ that Katsura hadn't slit him open.

“Take him back to the holding cell.” Hijikata ground out to the nearest officer, storming out of the police station. He pulled out a cigarette and shoved it between trembling lips, his hand pulling out his cellphone. He had a new text message from Yamazaki, and when Hijikata flipped it open, he crushed the cigarette between his teeth.

[Huge problem. Meet me at the barracks.]

The cut on Hijikata's jaw pulled open when he grimaced too hard. Suddenly, he didn't really care that Katsura had drawn his blade on him, had tried to kill him because this all filtered back to that man in that room. Nakamura was pulling the strings to everything and everyone around him, hurting the people he cared about, threatening the others, and Hijikata wasn't going to let him get away with it.

Katsura was stubbornly sticking to his peaceful end, and Hijikata was sure as hell going to give it to him, one way or another. He texted Yamazaki back that he was on his way, and then immediately got in his car.

 

–

 

“So do you want the bad news first, or the not-so-bad-but-still-bad news?” Yamazaki asked nervously, sitting down beside Hijikata at his table. He had Nakamura's sleek black laptop in his hands, a laptop that was being popped open and loaded. “There's a lot. A lot of bad news.”

They were in Hijikata's bedroom, because this was under the table information now, just like everything else lately. When had he become such a sketchy police officer? Tapping his cigarette lighter on the table, Hijikata growled out a huff. “At this point, I don't care. Best news first.”

“It's not good news, it's just not as bad as the other news.” Yamazaki said. He loaded up a few of Nakamura's files, nervously talking. “Sougo made us inspect every last inch of Nakamura's apartment and his office. He also looked into that address Shinpachi gave him, and we are tracking down the owner as we speak. He has a less than attractive face, I have a file for you on him. We're confirming he's a member of the Red Circle.”

Yamazaki opened a folder, scrolling down through what looked like hundreds of video files. “These are all victims, some of them have the three zip-ties, some of them don't. Nakamura is selling their videos, and some of the faces match the victims that have come forward. Nakamura is a distributor. Payment is up front to a secure account. All of the files are encrypted and sent over a secure-”

“I get it.” Hijikata said, lighter tapping faster. “How is this bad news?”

“Because these videos, the money transfers, are all on this computer, along with these _other_ videos.” Yamazaki said, minimizing the folder and popping open a new one. There were various icons of videos and pictures of the Shinsengumi, and it took Hijikata a second to realize that all of the men in the thumbnails had their hands either raised or their swords bloody. “It's bad, Hijikata. And I don't support police brutality, but we could lose half our force to what could be misunderstandings. Internally, we've been kicking out the rougher of the bunch, but these still make us look bad.”

The lighter tapped a little harder. “Of course. Is that it?”

“That's not it.” Yamazaki said, once Hijikata was properly seething. He loaded another folder, clicking on a picture file. It was Kondou and Katsura, sitting outside. They were at the barracks, Hijikata abruptly realized, men in uniform visible in the background not paying the extremist any mind. The angle was terrible, but Katsura's face was clear as day. He was smiling. When Yamazaki clicked the next photo, Kondou's face was clear too. There were more. Dozens of incidents, perhaps. How the hell did he get these?

“There's more.” Yamazaki said. He didn't really need to show Hijikata anything else because Hijikata already realized what was happening here. What this was. “Like, _lots_ more, especially of Kondou. Sougo is in here, I'm in here. He has me and Katsura together, you and Katsura together, you and Gintoki and Katsura. He has everything covered. He has an entire folder full of pictures of Shinpachi and Kagura, photos of Gintoki. Even the old lady and Tama are in here, and the files are more recent. He's been busy the past few years, the dates go back almost four. He's covered all of the Shinsengumi, there's even a folder on the regular police. Blackmail just in case they get involved too. He's covered, Hijikata. He even has dirt on his _clients_. This laptop is an evidence gold mine, but if we present it, we're condemning ourselves and everyone else. We're dragging the regular police into this, the Joui, other factions that have not even been mentioned in the plot.”

Hijikata remained silent. There was a tremble in his hands, a shiver in his body. He didn't need to see the details, he got the message loud and clear. He needed to stab something. He ground out, “Anything else?”

“Uh. Yeah. Those photos of Katsura that ended up online, they were taken from a video. About six years old, looks like a bad one night stand.” Yamazaki said. “The photos were pulled out from the later half of the video, after Katsura was drugged. Um. It gets worse though. Or better. Depends on how you look at it.”

“Okay?” Hijikata grit out. He could feel himself losing his hold on Nakamura, could feel the bastard slipping through his fingertips. “What is it?”

"So almost twelve hours after Katsura's photos were posted online, Katsura's video was sold along with another video for a very high price. The video was of Gintoki.” Yamazaki said, loading another folder with thirteen videos in it, all of the thumbnails sporting a shock of curly white hair.

Hijikata took in a deep breath. He was hot. Very hot. A dangerous rage boiling through him. He had all of his answers, all of his evidence. Katsura. Nakamura. The Chop and Lop. The Red Circle and the kidnappings. The abuse and assault. Everything. Everything was exposed, but there was nothing Hijikata could present. “Who bought the videos?”

“That's the thing. I haven't been able to trace where the money came from, but the file was sent into space. I'm working on locating it now.” Yamazaki said. “But Nakamura also sold four copies of Katsura's video days after, and I was able to trace those because they were local.”

“Who?” Hijikata snapped.

“The addresses belong to all four home invasions this week.” Yamazaki said. “Someone broke in while the owners were away. The computers in the house were all stolen, the front door left open for opportunist thieves. There was no evidence and no witnesses. The last house was robbed the day Shinpachi was found.”

Hijikata blinked, eyebrows drawn. “Someone was looking for the videos, then.” Katsura? Gintoki? No, because Gintoki and Katsura were accounted for the day Shinpachi went missing. “Did you request the invasions reports to get transferred over, yet?”

“I would assume so, and no, because. Well.” Yamazaki said. “We don't actually have evidence yet, remember?”

“Fuck.” Hijikata took in a deep breath. When was the last time he was this mad? This frustrated? No wonder Katsura didn't reach out for help. Gintoki either. Nakamura was setting traps left, right, and center. They couldn't move, couldn't even breathe without Nakamura somehow knowing. And this man had a trump card for _everything_.

“Fucking hell.” Hijikata snapped, standing up. He groaned, a hand to his forehead as the frustration consumed him, that headache from earlier exploding. “You need to document that entire laptop. All of it. Note everything on there because... Shit. We can't use that without taking ourselves down too.”

“Hijikata.” Yamazaki said, his voice wavering. “How big is this situation?”

Hijikata didn't answer him. Instead, he stormed outside with a cigarette already lit. They were going to have to let Nakamura go. Could he risk tampering with evidence, covering the Shinsengumi's tracks? Pulling Gintoki out of this? Did Nakamura really have a backup? Judging by the mess Katsura had found himself in, the mess Gintoki was in, and the kids, Hijikata didn't really want to push his luck.

In anger, he pulled out his cellphone to call Sougo as he took in his first drag.

On the third ring, Sougo answered. He didn't sound too happy. “Yo.”

“Did you question the Joui yet?”

“No, I'm at the hospital still.” Sougo said. “Zura just woke up. He's in a _peachy_ mood.”

Hijikata huffed, hand to his head. “I'm going to go question him in your place. He better fucking talk. Stay there. This is going bad, and it's going bad fast.”

“Great.” Sougo said, his voice sounding even less happy. “I'll let him know.”

He hung up without a goodbye, leaving Hijikata to stare at his cellphone wondering if he should update Gintoki.

He decided against it, that tiny spark of hope telling him that maybe he could rectify the situation. So he smoked his cigarette in angry silence instead.


	16. The Calm Before The War

Hijikata stood outside the coffee shop with his back to the wall, another cigarette lit between his chilled fingers. He had a black coffee in one hand, the only thing keeping him sane right now. The meeting with the Joui had been a bust. A complete, utter failure. The man was terrified for his life even with Nakamura behind bars. He had refused to say anything, hadn't even admitted he knew who Nakamura was. He didn't want anything to do with it and was suddenly very content with his sentence.

It had struck Hijikata's last nerve. Nakamura was _not_ going to get away with all of this. He wasn't. Hijikata wouldn't let him whether he had to take the man down himself.

Hijikata was staring at the sky wondering what he was going to do now before Nakamura was inevitably released. It was only a matter of time until Hijikata got the call, Yamazaki awkwardly explaining that Nakamura had been let go because his lawyer had said this and that, and that they didn't have anything substantial to keep him with. He was frustrated, powerless. The Shinsengumi had been threatened and that was the only thing stopping Hijikata from arresting Nakamura's ass and throwing him in jail.

There had to be a way around it. There had to be something. Perhaps if Hijikata had gotten caught up in this earlier… perhaps if he had known what was happening before it got this bad...

The crowd passed by indifferent to his inner monologue as he stared at the clear sky, considering his options, considering his knowledge. All of his questions thus far had been answered, all of the pieces fitting into the puzzle now. Now, Hijikata and Katsura just needed to figure out how to take Nakamura down, how to get around the roadblocks the man had set up. If they worked together, him, Zura and Gintoki, they were bound to come up with something, right? Nakamura's tactic had separated them on purpose, had pitted them against each other to keep them from working together. That was an important detail to analyze, right? Or was Hijikata just falling into the same pattern Zura and Gintoki had, thinking he could deal with Nakamura himself? Maybe, just maybe, Hijikata just needed to reach out and find someone else who could take Nakamura down from the outside.

But who?

Something dark fluttered by, caught the corner of Hijikata's eyes, and his attention snapped to the passing crowd. A chill washed over him, raising the fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck as he scanned the people around him, his fingers tingling like that moment when he had belatedly realized Katsura had drawn his blade, blood rolling down Hijikata's cheek.

He didn't see anyone he recognized, didn't see anyone suspicious. Just crowds of people milling around like people tended to do. There was no wolf amongst the sheep.

_I think I need a nap._

Spooked and genuinely unsettled, Hijikata stepped from the wall, heading back for his cruiser. He'd stop at the barracks first and shower, freshen up a bit, before going back to check on Zura and delivering the bad news. Gintoki could wait for the update, because if Hijikata told him too soon, Gintoki would just disappear to do something stupid. Like cut Nakamura at his kneecaps the second he left the police station.

He paused before he opened the door to his car, a thought passing. Something about the barracks and something Sougo had said. It was like he was about to remember a very important conversation, a conversation that would lead him to realize the big plot twist the author was so eager to reveal. But he lost it after a moment, his mind going blank, the idea disappearing.

_Yeah. I need a nap._

He simply got in his car.

 

–

When Hijikata returned to Katsura's hospital room late the next morning – he'd gotten distracted by 'leads' and 'ideas' that turned out to be wild goose chases – moody and angry and frustrated, he wasn't too surprised to see Katsura sitting up in the bed, blankets pooled around his hips, playing a round of UNO with Sougo. (Can two people even play UNO?) It was an odd sight but not totally bizarre. It was probably the most normal thing Hijikata had seen all week.

Hijikata simply flopped into a nearby chair, his face and posture and indifference screaming his dissatisfaction of the morning he'd just had. “How are you feeling?” Hijikata asked on an exhale, eyes on Katsura's face.

Katsura glanced up from his cards. The bags under his eyes were pronounced now, with how pasty his skin was. The bruising on his cheeks were dark too, starting to show Nakamura's rage. But there was a glint in those hazel green eyes again, something Nakamura had been struggling to take away and he looked significantly more _present_ than the last time Hijikata had talked to him. Amazing what fluids and some nutrients could do for a guy. “I'll be better when the first commander loses. Again.”

And just like that, Katsura seemed okay. A little stiff in posture, his voice a little strained, but he wasn't even half as upset as he had been the day before. He was impressively resilient, his split lip even quirking into a little smile.

Hijikata stared. He cracked a grin back. “Is he? Sougo's losing at UNO? Did he finally meet his match?”

“I think so.”

“I am not.”

“Did you question the Joui?” Katsura asked, setting down a card. Sougo's poker face was on game. He didn't respond, didn't even look away from the cards. He didn't even ask how Katsura had known Hijikata was going to question the man. Perhaps Katsura had already told him the whole story, Hijikata's involvement included. Hijikata wasn't sure and at this point, but he also didn't really care.

“It was a bust.” Hijikata said, his tone frustrated. “Nakamura probably has control that extends even from jail. The man wouldn't give me anything, wouldn't even admit he knew Nakamura. Nakamura's been doing a damn good job at covering his own tracks. I've been trying to dig up anything I can use against him all night, but I have nothing except everything on his laptop. But I can't _use_ his laptop because...”

Katsura's eyelids drifted downward, his face rather impassive. “What now, then? He's set to be released tonight, isn't he? Twenty-four hours and all that?”

Well. This was the part of the conversation Hijikata hadn't been looking forward too. Sougo glanced up then, eyes flickering to Hijikata knowingly before glancing back to his cards. He picked a card, setting it down.

There was no simple way to put it, no way for Hijikata to sugar coat it. “We let Nakamura go. Last night.”

Katsura glanced over ever so slowly like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He kept his mouth shut, however, only his eyes narrowing into slits. He took a moment, the room dead silent as hospitals tended to be. Katsura understood the situation immediately. He scoffed, not amused. “He threatened you.”

“He threatened to take out the Shinsengumi as a whole.” Hijikata said, sighing. He closed his eyes, a hand to his forehead. “Listen. I talked to him for no more than fifteen minutes yesterday, and I have no idea how you put up with him for this long. Are his speeches always that long-winded?”

Hijikata wasn't looking, so he couldn't see what he assumed would be Katsura's horrified expression. Despair, maybe. Rage? After a moment of silence, Hijikata pried an eye open before opening both, shocked to see Katsura had simply turned back to the game looking just as indifferent as when they had started this conversation.

“You're okay with this?” Hijikata asked, disbelieving.

“There's nothing I can do about it, and I'm not surprised.” Katsura said. He sounded more tired than anything else. “He was able to string me along this far, and Gintoki too. He's been planning this for a really long time, Hijikata, and he had his ground covered. He came in with everything he had. I'm not surprised he scouted out the Shinsengumi just in case. I'm just… out of ideas right now. There's no point in being upset.”

“He has dirt on the _regular_ police too. Other factions that aren't yours.” Hijikata said, huffing. “He's completely covered. I had Yamazaki note everything on his computer and there's even more than that. He's been doing nothing but watching every dark crack and corner of Edo for years.”

“Don't be upset.” Katsura said, his tone light despite the situation. “I should have reached out sooner.” He glanced up, smiling. “This is already all easier to deal with now that you guys know.”

“You're stupid.” Hijikata said automatically because Katsura had said that so affectionately that it was embarrassing. Like, Hijikata's cheeks were heating up, embarrassing.

“Someone want to fill me in yet?” Sougo asked, placing another card. “Besides the fact that Nakamura is an information god and he needs to be stopped?”

“Nakamura blackmailed me into placing those bombs.” Katsura said simply. His grip tightened on the cards, the smile a little strained. “And now he's blackmailing the police into turning a blind eye. The second I'm out of here, he'll get me and force me right back at it.”

Sougo glanced up, his look dark.

“He won't get you.” Hijikata said, sitting up in the chair. “I promised to keep you close and I will. Stay here for a little. Recover, you still look like shit. He's made a mistake somewhere and as long as you're in here, he can't have you. There has to be a move he hasn’t considered. We could always ship Gintoki out into space for a bit with the kids and try to corner him.”

“He's threatened other people I know. Other people Gintoki knows. All of them. If he has Gintoki, he has me, and he knows that.” Katsura said. “If you take Gintoki out of the equation, ship him into space, then Nakamura will just have to lure him back. And do you know the first person Nakamura will pick to hurt? To lure Gintoki back to him?”

Sougo glanced over, eyes trained on Hijikata.

“You.” Katsura said, turning back to the game. “So unless everyone in my life just gets up and leaves, Nakamura has me. There's nothing anyone in Edo can do about it. And eventually, Nakamura will lure me out of here too. Gintoki and the kids are in danger as long as I'm here. He'll use this against me.”

“What dirt did he have on us?” Sougo asked, ignoring Katsura's last card. “What did he have that couldn't be countered?”

“Sougo, he has enough to launch an investigation on more than half the Shinsengumi, including me, you and Kondou. Yamazaki too. He could also get all of our evidence against him thrown out and then we have nothing on him. We need more than just the laptop.”

“And?” Sougo asked. “If he launches an investigation, if he takes us down with him, he's still in jail losing, even if all of us lose too. If I was Katsura, I would sink everyone and then escape from jail.”

“Well, Zura isn't an asshole like you are.” Hijikata said.

“I would lose everything too though.” Katsura said. “And that would defeat the purpose of me letting Nakamura live. I'll stab him myself before I let that happen, but he already threatened me about what would happen should he croak. If he dies, he says there's a plan in place, and I honestly can't tell if he's bluffing. He's covered so much ground already...”

“No idea what to tell you then.” Sougo muttered. “Why didn't you just stab him?”

“I want to end this peacefully.” Katsura said, in a way that sounded like he was hardly holding on to that ideal. He sighed just as Sougo began to point out the issue with peace and the bombs, a hand going to his forehead. His eyes closed, head turning down, mouth pressed shut. Hijikata suddenly missed that smile he'd just had.

“He knows.” Hijikata said, interrupting Sougo's speech. “He already knows so leave him alone.”

“So what now?” Sougo asked, slapping the cards down because it looked like Katsura was completely done with both the game and them.

“Now, I make a phone call, and then you and I are going to review Yamazaki's notes to see if there's some other angle we can try.” Hijikata said. “But first, let's play fifty-two pick up.”

 

–

 

Hijikata's tone was grim on the other end of the line. “We had to let him go.”

Gintoki paused in Otae's living room, the phone pulling away from his ear like it had just licked him. They… they had to let Nakamura go? Gintoki remained quiet, the silence drawing out between the two of them for a moment too long. Gintoki turned away from the kids who were fighting over the remote on the couch, his face impassive. Otae was at work, the kids in his care. He couldn't leave them now, wouldn't. He lowered his voice, understanding washing over him. _Oh._

“What did he say to you?” Gintoki asked quietly, leaning against the hallway wall so the kids wouldn't overhear him.

“It's not what he said to me.” Hijikata said. There was frustration laced in his tone. “It's what he had against the Shinsengumi.”

Gintoki closed his eyes. Enough said. The thought had passed through Gintoki's mind during the day-long wait anyway. If Nakamura had been this prepared to fight the Joui, then he was ready to fight the police too, right? He wasn't surprised. Disappointed and exhausted yes, but surprised, no. “How's Zura?”

Hijikata was quiet long enough that Gintoki also understood that Zura wasn't well.

“He's going to be physically okay, but I might not be able to keep that promise I made. This might be hitting its second round.” Hijikata said. He sighed. “Look. I'm… I'm working on it. I'm still trying to… shit. That address Shinpachi gave us is a lead, we've made an arrest. We've found evidence all over the place, including hairs that belong to you. The apartment owner has a less than attractive face and a sleazy attitude, but he didn't sell anyone out. Sougo's going down there now to interrogate him, and you know how _that_ goes.”

Gintoki chuckled, rolling his eyes. “And if he still doesn't talk?”

“Then he's taking the blame for Shinpachi alone, as well as his contribution to other Red Circle cases, now that we have his DNA. We've made a few matches. We might be able to take down a good portion of the gang through him, may be able to hit Nakamura from this angle too if we play it right. We also have Nakamura's DNA in the bank now, and it probably matches other Red Circle victims. But. Well, we're not running the tests yet.”

“Because he's blackmailing the police now.” Gintoki said. “Do what you need to do, I get it.”

“He can't get away with this.” Hijikata said. “Listen, I'll figure something out. It's not just the Shinsengumi, it's the regular police too that he's after. He's made a mistake somewhere. There's something we can do, Gintoki, there has to be. I just have to find it and you need to stay put. I need you and the kids safe.”

“And that Joui that was arrested?”

“Nothing.” Hijikata said. “It's possible Nakamura is blackmailing his men too. It doesn't matter if he's behind bars, the men are still scared.”

“How long ago did you release him?” Gintoki asked, his voice plain. He turned back around, eyes on the kids. Kagura was shoving Shinpachi over, trying to pry the remote out of his hands. Shinpachi had a foot in her chest, trying to push her off, but her super strength was too much. If Nakamura was on the loose-

“No.” Hijikata said. “No, absolutely not. Don't do anything stupid, don't even leave that house today. I'm coming down to you with my files. You better be there, you hear me? I'm leaving the barracks in twenty minutes and you better be there, Gintoki, or I will tear up all of Edo and personally arrest you.”

“Fine.” Gintoki said, his voice raising an octave in mock anger. But he was smiling. “Be like that.”

They said their farewells and Gintoki hung up.

Sighing, Gintoki turned around, surprised to see Shinpachi standing very close by. Gintoki hadn't even heard him creep up. He was nervously wringing his hands together, glasses glinting suspiciously. “Gin-san? Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Pachi! Stop hogging Gin-chan and come watch this with me!” Kagura yelled from the couch. She had a finger shoved into her nose, her new favorite anime playing on the little television.

“Of course you can talk to me.” Gintoki said, just as the phone began to ring again. Gintoki sighed. “Or not. One sec.” He said, picking the phone back up, assuming it was Hijikata again. He didn't miss the disappointment on Shinpachi's face. Or the nervousness. “Hello?”

“Hey, you.” It was Otose, Gintoki's eyebrow perking up at the sound of her voice. She didn't sound impressed. Was she calling about the rent already? It wasn't even the end of the month yet! “Some weirdo is looking for you. Curly brown hair and hasn’t stopped laughing like a dumbass since he showed up. Said it was really urgent but I wasn't sure if you wanted to see anybody. Tama says you're 'in hiding'. Seriously, what kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?”

 _Laughing like a dumbass?_ “Tatsuma?” Gintoki asked confused. “You can give him this address- what does Tama mean, in hiding? I'm not in hiding! How does she know? And why is that weirdo here? What does he want?”

“He didn't say.” Otose said. “He says 'ha ha. Tell Kintoki it's really urgent like we're out of sake urgent.'”

Gintoki scoffed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Send him here. I'll ship him back to space like express delivery.”

They said their goodbyes, Gintoki hanging up. He stared at the phone for a second longer than necessary like the damn thing was going to ring again. Once he was sure he was safe to speak, he turned away from it, back to Shinpachi.

“Good news and bad news at the same time.” Gintoki said, plastering a bright smile on his face and throwing an arm around Shinpachi's shoulder. “Tatsuma's here and coming to visit.”

“Sakamoto?” Shinpachi asked, smile bright.

“Sakamoto!” Kagura yelled, twisting on the couch. She was so excited Gintoki was almost jealous. “When's he coming! Is Mutsu coming too?”

“Soon.” Gintoki said, rubbing at the back of his head before steering Shinpachi away from the living room. “The Mayora too.”

“Toshi?” Kagura asked, yelling some more. “You've been talking to that boy quite a bit lately, Gin-chan, anything you want to tell mother? I don't have to lecture him, do I?”

“Why is he coming?” Shinpachi asked.

“Shush.” Gintoki said in both of their general directions, moving him and Shinpachi away from Kagura. “Let's go in the kitchen.”

In the kitchen, Shinpachi awkwardly hung around by the door while Gintoki opened the fridge, digging through its contents. He wasn't sure what was on Shinpachi's mind, but whenever the kid started to wring his hands like that, Gintoki knew it was something serious. And by serious, Gintoki meant Shinpachi probably knew something he really shouldn't know. Which also meant Gintoki didn't really want to be facing him just in case that _something_ was actually about Gintoki himself. About what had been going on the past week or so. About Nakamura.

“So what did you want to tell me?”

Awkwardly, Shinpachi stuttered. “I… I wanted to tell you that… I… so, uh, I lied. To the police. About what happened.”

Gintoki stood up straight immediately, turning back to Shinpachi in alarm. Cold fear washed over him, the immediate assumption was that Shinpachi had been inappropriately touched and had been too ashamed to say anything. “Did they touch you?” He asked, his voice perfectly composed despite the rage building up inside of him.

“No.” Shinpachi said quickly. “But when I escaped, it wasn't an old lady who cut me free in the streets. There was no old lady, Gin-san. I lied.”

Exhaling in relief, Gintoki placed a hand to his forehead, turning back to the fridge. He had brought pudding cups, but the shelves were so full he had lost them. It was amazing, really, the idea of a full fridge. “Look, it's okay if it was some weirdo or you had to do it yourself with a string from your boots. Geez, you worried me for a second.”

“I… think you need to know...” Shinpachi said, voice wavering. “I ran into someone we know.”

Curious, Gintoki glanced to him just as the name left Shinpachi's mouth.

In alarm, it took everything Gintoki had not to rush from the house right then.

 

–

 

Nakamura sat in his office chair, elbows leaning on the desk while he giggled behind his hands like a child. The whole plan had been going so smooth he couldn't contain himself! So much smoother than he had expected! It was absolutely hysterical!

Katsura was doing all the work for Nakamura now. Going to the police like that! Katsura would have had a better time escaping Nakamura's control had he kept to himself, had he _not_ drug Gintoki and Hijikata into this! It was hilarious! The more people Katsura made Nakamura target, the harder it was for the extremist to escape! He was trapping himself, and Nakamura was watching it happen every step of the way. He was rather pleased with himself.

He was in his office at the Chop and Lop, had decided to show up for work anyway. The shop had only been open for a few hours, yet he felt like it had been years since he had been arrested. He had the demon vice chief right in the palm of his hand now, thanks to that little conversation. It had been so easy! It was Gintoki! Gintoki was the key to everything!

Giggling harder, Nakamura almost missed his phone ringing. The front desk was calling him, probably about either more police stopping by or another reporter. Smothering his hysterics, Nakamura answered the call with a stuttering 'yes?'. The day was about to get better, wasn’t it?

“There's a man here to see you.” His receptionist said, her voice plain and indifferent. “He asked for you by full name. Says he's here to discuss business.”

“Oh?” Nakamura asked, letting the word roll off his tongue. He almost started laughing again. Katsura would have come through the back door, and Gintoki was way too wary to show his face around. Was it the vice chief already? Coming in for round two? “Does he have dark hair and an angry look to his face?”

“Um, _yeah_.” The girl said. “Especially that last part.”

“Send him in!” Nakamura said excitedly, hanging up his phone.

He swiveled then to his computer, loading up some files to make it look like he was busy like he didn't have time to deal with the vice chief. Looking like he was half attentive was a ploy he liked to use, made his guests feel unwelcome and unheard. It caused frustration and a sense of loss before the guest could even truly lose. He was snickering again, trying his best to smother his giggles. He wondered how mad the vice chief would be, to walk in seeing Nakamura giggling like a toddler. To see Nakamura completely pleased with himself for destroying Hijikata's friends. It wasn't like there was anything the vice chief could do about it either.

The door opened, and Nakamura glanced up, all pleasant smiles. “Hello, please have a seat.” He said, before raising an eyebrow. Not the vice chief, but that didn't matter. Nakamura didn't recognize the man who moved across the room, slowly sitting down in the instructed chair. He was wearing a dark winter yukata to fend off the chill, a splash of purple visible beneath the neckline. “How may I help you, Mr…

“Takasugi Shinsuke.” The man said, his voice surprisingly deep considering his size. He leaned casually against the armrest of the chair, completely at ease. A single green eye stared out from beneath a heavy fringe, his mouth a grim line. “I am here about bad business.”

Nakamura raised an eyebrow, the name sounding familiar but not yet ringing a bell. “Bad business?” He asked, scooting forward in the chair. A local customer, then? “If this is about a haircut, Takasu-”

Nakamura didn't have the chance to smother the shock as the name finally rung a bell. He wasn't able to stop his face from morphing into wide-eyed horror, the hairs on his arms raising like he was a mere rabbit facing a wolf. A chill shot through him, his heart constricting painfully. He tried to instantly recollect his plan for one of the many worst-case scenario's he'd accounted for, tried his best to remember the steps he needed to take to keep this threat at bay.

This was one of the worst worst-case scenarios. This was a threat that needed to be controlled and neutralized _immediately_.

Nakamura smothered the negative reaction quickly, chuckling like he wasn’t completely unnerved. He had Runaway Kotarou bending on command, he had the Shiroyasha wary, not even retaliating against his abuse. He had the Demon Vice Chief holding back evidence. What was one more Joui? No problem. “I'm sorry. Bad business, you said? May you enlighten me as to what our business was?”

“Two videos purchased for a rather large sum.” Takasugi said. When his mouth crooked into a smile at the corner, it looked so much worse than the grim line had been.

Nakamura instantly remembered receiving an inquiry for the video behind Katsura's leaked photos. Remembered selling one of the more consensual-looking videos of Gintoki along with Katsura's edited footage – everything looked nice and agreeable – just because the mysterious man had offered to pay so much. But the name behind the inquiry hadn't been Takasugi, it had been Sakamoto. And when Nakamura had looked into it, the man turned out to be a space merchant. A pretty bland name if you asked Nakamura. An alias, then?

“Was there an issue with the footage you purchased?” Nakamura asked, playing dumb because he wasn't completely in control. Yet. If he could trap Takasugi with words, he sure as hell would do it. “You received the files, correct?”

The line of questioning didn't lead Takasugi astray. Whatever angle he came in here to play, he was sticking to it and looking amused while he did so. “I have come to make you a deal.”

“Oh?” Nakamura asked, a smile spreading across his face. It wasn't every day someone tried to make deals with him _before_ he blackmailed them. Takasugi would be no different either. There was something and someone everyone cared about. It wasn't hard. Nakamura would just need to review the dirt he had on _this one_ before fighting him head on _._

“Mm.” Takasugi hummed, his posture and attitude still lax, that eye still slit open and watching observantly. “At midnight, I will return here. I want you to hand over the original videos and any backups you may have.”

Excitement bubbled up inside Nakamura's chest. He almost started giggling again. Katsura, Gintoki, Hijikata. Some of the most powerful people in Edo and Nakamura had them dancing like marionettes. Soon, Takasugi would be just another puppet.

“Sounds like you have everything to gain. That's not how negotiating works. In business deals, you usually _offer_ the other party something. And what do I get to keep out of this bargain?” Nakamura asked, his smile wide.

Takasugi didn't even blink, his voice lilting. “Your limbs.”

Nakamura didn't react immediately only because he didn't process what had been said. He stared stupidly at the most wanted man in space _and_ on Earth, his smile still wide. _I get to keep m_ _y what?_ His eyes widened a fraction more, heart thrumming painfully in his chest.

Takasugi remained neutral for a moment longer before he stood up. Compelled by the shift in power, Nakamura stood up too, every fiber of his being alert and ready to be attacked. He was completely on edge, the smile frozen on his face.

“I will be back.” Takasugi said. There was a small quirk to the corners of his lips, but with that single eye narrowed just like so, he looked more predatory than Nakamura ever could.

And just like that, Takasugi turned and left. He didn't say anything else. Didn't string together a long-winded threat about what he could and would do if Nakamura didn't meet his demands. Didn't elaborate as to which limbs he had been referring too or even how he expected Nakamura to act. He didn't need to.

But Nakamura knew. There was a shake in his joints that he couldn't stop, a quiver in his chest that he was struggling to force into a laugh. This. This was the kind of power Nakamura wanted. This was the kind of predator Nakamura wanted to be.

To have _Takasugi Shinsuke_ on his knees, stubbornly staring up at him like Katsura? To have _Takasugi Shinsuke_ warily backing away from him like Gintoki? This was the kind of control Nakamura dreamed of.

Maybe Nakamura had gone after the wrong terrorist after all. Takasugi might just clean up the streets without any blackmail necessary, but Nakamura had abandoned this idea because not only was Takasugi a wild card, too hard to control, where would the fun be if it was so easy?

Nakamura, standing at his desk and watching his door close, was painfully hard. He finally started to laugh again.


	17. This Is The Commercial Break Before The Throw Down

“I'm sorry, Gin-san.” Shinpachi said quietly. Again.

“Don't worry about it.” Gintoki sighed, leaning against the armrest of the couch. What was the problem? There was no problem. So what, Takasugi had been to one to help him when he was in a pinch? So what, he was running amok in Edo? Helping bound children escape on the streets? What was the problem with that? It wasn't weird or anything.

Ha ha, as Sakamoto would say.

There was a problem with Sakamoto’s arrival as much as there was a problem with Takasugi's. Sakamoto and Takasugi were in Edo. Together. It was suspicious and convenient, so unless the planets aligned, they had to be here _together_ together. Why would the two of them show up at the same time for business? They wouldn't. Unless they knew something, but what could they possibly know? Gintoki doubted Takasugi would come down to help because he was a nice guy, but Sakamoto? _What do they know? Maybe it's_ _just_ _a coincidence that they’re he_ _re_ _during this mess with Nakamura?_

Regardless, Gintoki wouldn't know until Sakamoto showed up at his front door, and as soon as he got his chance, he'd make that loud mouth talk. It wouldn’t be that hard, Sakamoto had a hard time keeping secrets, after all.

Speaking of Sakamoto showing up, the doorbell rang.

Kagura was off the couch and whipping the front door open as fast as she could, already screaming. Shinpachi was right there with her, yelling as well. Gintoki got up with them, rolling his eyes. They were so stupid about it that Gintoki momentarily forgot why he was so upset about what Shinpachi had just told him ten minutes ago.

“Mu- Oh! Hi!” Kagura yelled, her voice unsure. “Are you a salesman? We don’t buy things from salesmen. Gin-chan says you’re all lying bastards just out for my money.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. I'm not a salesman.” Said a familiar voice that had Gintoki rushing to the door in a borderline panic. “My name is Nakamura. It's a pleasure to meet you two.”

“Hey!” Gintoki growled, rushing up beside Shinpachi and dutifully stepping between Kagura and this man. From chill to kill in point three seconds. Nakamura grinned, eyes on Gintoki suddenly, his mouth opening to say something, but Gintoki stopped him before he could.

“Outside.” Gintoki snapped, stepping forward into the door to block Nakamura from entering. Nakamura took a step back, Gintoki crowding him outside into the front yard with urgency. The kids must have understood his tone, must have seen his anger, because they didn't follow him out front, didn't even say anything as Gintoki slammed the door shut behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Gintoki snapped, remaining just out of reach of Nakamura and on extra-high alert. “What do you want?”

Nakamura chuckled, an unnerving smile splitting across his face. It made Gintoki's stomach clench and roll. “I've come to request your assistance. I'm sure I can expect your full cooperation.” His dark eyes glanced to the front door, eyebrow raising. “Kagura’s quite the cute little girl, I see.”

Gintoki moved forward into Nakamura’s face, that dangerous calmness passing through him like it did right before a very bloody fight. If Nakamura touched either kid with those grubby fingers of his, he would be losing that hand. If Nakamura took Shinpachi again, snatched up Kagura, Gintoki wasn’t sure if he could control himself. There was a light bruise on Nakamura’s face, Katsura's doing, and Gintoki considered for a moment how hard he would hit this man when the time came. Hard enough to break a bone? At least.

“I require your presence at the shop tonight.” Nakamura said pleasantly, his eyes glittering. “It has been brought to my attention that you and Zura have had the chance to catch up, yes? We need to discuss how your involvement is going to go from now on.”

Gintoki’s jaw clenched. “Why?”

With a hand to Gintoki’s chest, Nakamura pushed him a step back, creating space between them. With that shit eating grin still plastered on his face, Nakamura crossed his arms, standing tall. “I need you to come to the shop tonight, and you’re _going_ to come.” Nakamura said, like some stern parent dodging reasons for why their kids just _need_ to do what they’re told. “Zura too. Gintoki, let me explain to you that this is a matter of urgency. You’re not getting the choice to screw this up. You will both show up at the instructed time, or you will both suffer the consequences. All of your cards are on the table right now.”

“Fuck right off.” Gintoki snapped. “I’m not going. End of story.”

Nakamura hummed. “I thought you might resist. So let me remind you how easy it was for me to take Shinpachi. How easy it is to abduct Yato children. And that’s not all you care about, I have your precious vice chief now too. He thinks he can stop me, but he doesn’t realize he’s already lost all of his power. Want me to take him next, Gintoki? Do you know how easy it would be? That guy needs to sleep and stop sneaking around by himself. It's dangerous. Never know when a guy like me might nab him from the shadows. If you do not show up at ten, Hijikata will show up for you. Do you understand?”

Gintoki’s teeth were clenched so hard he might break them.

“I asked you a question, Gintoki.” Nakamura said with that damn tone. “Or should I perhaps invite myself in, spend some time with your kids? They’ve got quite the personalities on them, especially the girl. How cute. I'd love to get to know them.”

“You sound like a shitty NPC who’s already maxed out his dialogue options.” Gintoki growled, simply reminding himself he did not have a _third_ loner sword to bash his skull in, and that killing the man would just get him into a _lot_ of trouble _._ “It’s the same shit coming out of your mouth every time I see you. Get out of here.”

“But it works, doesn’t it?” Nakamura asked, smiling pleasantly. “Ten o’clock. You or Hijikata. I know you'll make the right choice.”

He grinned, all pleasant smiles and glittering eyes, turning away just as Sakamoto and Mutsu entered the front gate together. Gintoki couldn’t tell if it was bad timing or great timing, but that red jacket stuck out in the snow like a sore thumb, Sakamoto's stupid laugh ringing across the yard.

“Ha ha, kin-chan!” Sakamoto yelled, waving. “Hey, how’s-”

“Odd Jobs is closed for the day.” Gintoki yelled back, his gaze fixed on Nakamura as the man left the premises. He watched Nakamura glance over his shoulder, eyes roaming over Sakamoto and Mutsu. He was looking at them curiously, but not intensely enough for either of them to notice. Gintoki studied his face carefully, his heart hammering in his chest, worry and panic rising. _Does he know who Sakamoto is? Is this more than just convenient timing? What did he do? What is he doing? Why do I have to go?_

“What do you mean, closed? I came all the way here!” Sakamoto complained, his arms going out wide for a hug. Gintoki ignored him, glancing around him and Mutsu to make sure that Nakamura actually left. Only once the man was gone from view, the gate closed, did Gintoki turn his attention to Sakamoto and Mutsu. His fingertips were trembling, his heart rate irregular.

“What are you doing here, you idiot?” Gintoki asked, forcibly relaxing his jaw. He glanced up, Sakamoto all smiles and bright grins like always. It made Gintoki feel a little lighter than he had felt before, made it a little easier for him to relax his posture. But the worry was still there, the stress.

He would go. He didn't want to, but he knew he would go anyway. He would be there at ten o'clock sharp, would let Nakamura have his way. Because as frustratingly simple as it was for Nakamura to walk in there and threaten the kids to get his way every time, it worked.

“Ha ha! Ha ha! I came to see how you and Zura are doing!” Sakamoto said, loud enough for the whole block to hear. Gintoki cringed, suddenly on high alert. What if Nakamura was loitering around, listening to them? What if Nakamura didn't know who Sakamoto was and Sakamoto just outed himself as a friend? Would he be targeted too? Would Mutsu be enough to protect him? Nakamura had threatened Kagura, had claimed to know how to abduct Yato. What about Mutsu then? Was this considered paranoia? Was it okay for Gintoki to be so high-strung?

The front door behind them suddenly exploded open, Kagura and Shinpachi bursting from inside.

“Mutsu!”

“Sakamoto!”

“Ha ha haha!” Sakamoto opened his arms wide again on the doorstep, both kids rushing right past him to hug Mutsu instead. “Hey, what's with this cold welcome?”

“You didn't come to my birthday party, you pleb!” Kagura yelled, attached to Mutsu's midsection, the older Yato woman looking slightly startled. Shinpachi barreled into her too, almost knocking the vice-captain over, mushing Kagura between them. “Mutsu's my favorite! I missed you!”

“Kin-chan, are you at least going to give me a hug? Ha ha?” Sakamoto asked, the hurt clear in his voice as Mutsu struggled beside him to fend off the two teens.

“It's Gin-chan. Don't even talk to me about that Kintoki bastard. And no way. You're such a weirdo.” Gintoki said, moving within grabbing distance anyway so Sakamoto could do all the hugging work. If the man wanted a hug, who was Gintoki to deny him? He had missed this space idiot to the point of almost crying in drunk longing, after all. And maybe a hug would stop his hands from quivering, would relax those fine hairs that were still on end.

Sakamoto pulled him close, always ready for hugs just like Zura. “Ha, I missed you! We need to go out drinking tonight!”

“Oh?” Gintoki asked, not yet ready to admit he had missed Sakamoto too. The breath was being squeezed out of him suddenly, Sakamoto's arms tightening into a bear hug. His hands were suddenly on Sakamoto's back to try and push him off. “What's- with- the- hug?”

Sakamoto didn't say anything for a moment, just held him. And then he pulled back laughing, holding Gintoki at arms distance, hands on his shoulders. “Say, where's Zura-chi? Haha?”

Gintoki stared at him, eyebrows furrowing. “Hey. Speaking of _Zura_ , I need to have some stern words with you!”

“Uh oh! He's in trouble, let's go!” Kagura shouted, dragging Mutsu by her hand into the house with her. Shinpachi was following along, shouting something about making tea and providing a warm welcome. Over her shoulder, Mutsu sent Sakamoto a dark look, eyes narrowed, but they softened when she glanced to Gintoki.

Alone on the porch, Gintoki finally turned back to Sakamoto, sliding the front door closed. He waited for half a second for the kids to be out of earshot before jumping right into it. “You. Why are you and Takasugi here? Now of all times?”

“Oh, you already know about him? Good, that’s good. You don’t look too mad either ha ha.” Sakamoto started to giggle nervously. “Well… um… you _see.”_

_“Tatsuma.”_

Sakamoto went in for a second hug, pulling Gintoki into his chest. Gintoki's chin was on his shoulder this time, his hands flat against Sakamoto's stomach between them. His eyebrows scrunched together. “What is it?”

“I'm here for damage control.” Sakamoto said vaguely, his voice still light and airy. “Ha ha!”

“Why?” Gintoki asked, struggling helplessly against Sakamoto's grip. Oh ho. He did _not_ like the way that sounded.

Sakamoto finally let him go, holding him at arm's length once again. He was smiling, but it was that suspicious smile he had like he knew something he shouldn't.

Gintoki didn't like that expression at all. “Can you stop that. What are you doing, you're being weird. What happened? Why are you here for damage control unless-”

“Do you know a man named Nakamura?”

Oh ho. Oh no. Gintoki choked mid-sentence, eyes wide. He flinched back from Sakamoto, his hands awkwardly in the air after a vague gesture, a cold chill running up the back of his spine. _Is he threatening you too? Did he_ _really_ _get in contact?_ Was his chest constricting? Was this genuine fear in the pit of his stomach? That Nakamura was reaching out to literally everything he could get his hands on? That he was going to destroy everything good Gintoki and Katsura had and cared about?

“I'll take that as a yes.” Sakamoto said, stepping forward and Gintoki instantly shuffled back up against the front door, his hands behind him as he inhaled sharply through his nose. Sakamoto froze, his stupid grin stuck on his face, expression suddenly confused.

“Did he say something to you?” Gintoki asked very quietly. He was panting for air, a dangerous thrum in his fingertips again. If Nakamura had reached out to space just to control _Katsura_ , then there might be nothing to be done to end this peacefully, Nakamura might have already taken that from Zura too. It felt like there were walls suddenly closing in around him. How did one guy have so much power? It was like the war again, a losing battle-

“No, he didn't say anything to me.” Sakamoto said, taking another step forward carefully. “Did he-”

“How do you know him?” Gintoki asked, his voice stern. “Tatsuma, how do you know him? How does Takasugi know him?”

Sakamoto chuckled, hands up, placating. “I don't, Kin-chan. I haven't even spoken to him.”

“It's Gin. Gin-chan.” Gintoki said. “How do you know him!”

“It’s a long story?” Sakamoto said, chuckling. “Hey, can you breathe? What's the big deal?”

“Why are the two of you here?” Gintoki said sharply, his mind running wild now.

“If you breathe, I'll tell you.” Sakamoto said, finally reaching out and patting Gintoki's shoulder. He didn't say anything else, his eyes scrutinizing, thumb suddenly brushing against Gintoki's jaw. “Hey, you don't look too good. You gettin' into trouble down here?”

“Just tell me the story.” Gintoki said, sighing out his panic. He straightened a bit, calmed himself in appearance. “All of it. Don't skip the details.”

“Ha ha, okay, well long story short, Takasugi showed up like a bat out of hell and demanded to board my ship one day, and he was all like 'Sakamoto, I need to use your hard drive'.” Sakamoto said, hands gesturing wildly and his voice lowering dramatically to imitate Takasugi's voice. It would have been funny if Gintoki wasn’t so stressed. “And I was all like 'whoa, hold up, _which_ hard drive? Live my _drive_ hard drive?’ 'Cause you never know, right? What are friends for? So he brings this USB with these encrypted videos on them that he had bought online under _my_ name, of all names, and you know how he is with that stupid ship of his. Ha ha, he's like a sixty-year-old man who doesn't care about touch-screen this and smooth ride that he just wants his noisy-ass vintage muscle machine. That damn ship makes so much noise you can hear him a galaxy away, I don't understand why he won't let me upgrade it. Anyway. Ahem. Ha ha! He demanded use of my fancy technology so of course I wanted to see what the recordings were! He came all this way just to watch these videos and was so rude, he wouldn't even have lunch with me!”

“Tatsuma.” Gintoki said.

“So he loads these raunchy videos and one is Zura-chi and the other was you.” Sakamoto said casually, like they were not, in fact, discussing porn videos. “Do what you need to do, Kin-chan, we're all kinky bastards. But Takasugi was hella pissed this Nakamura guy was selling these videos and he was hella convinced Zura-chi would never get in bed with an Amanto – but like, let Zura be Zura, who knows with that guy, right? I already know he's getting more screen time probably because of that pet I sent him. So anyway, Takasugi took one of my cutting edge MP laptops – it's new by the way, that bastard isn't going to return it, is he? He made me track the IP address back to this cute little barber shop down here. Then once he had the location, he took my laptop and the videos and got back on his ship, and he turned the entire Kiheitai around and set course straight back to Earth! So of course I was all like 'holy shit, he's gonna do something stupid' so here I am. Damage control.”

Gintoki stared, eyes wide, teeth grinding together because this sounded like a disaster waiting to happen, but… _they don't know?_

“And Takasugi wouldn't answer any of my phone calls! Ha ha, I only called two-hundred times! It was Bansai who finally picked up and he was all like 'yo, we're heading to Earth to break some kneecaps I daresay, don't worry about it' so of course I'm worrying about it! And then I check the Edo news regularly because I miss you guys, and it keeps talking about Zura's bombs; I thought he became a pacifist and gave that extremist crap up years ago? Something seemed a little weird? So basically I'm here to make sure you and Zura-chi are okay, and to make sure Takasugi doesn't do anything stupider than returning to Earth like he just did when space is a very safe place for a criminal like him!”

Gintoki stared, his mouth slowly opening in bewilderment until a smile curved his lip. He blinked, understanding the story before stuttering out a laugh. “That shrimp came all the way here because he's mad Nakamura is selling the video of Zura?”

“Well yeah, ha. And yours too! He might be all like 'Gintoki, you're my nemesis and I will one day kill you' but he's still murderously protective of you.” Sakamoto said. “I told him to call and make sure you guys didn't get into the porn industry for some nice hard cash, but nope, that idiot wouldn't listen. He just decided you guys either don't know the videos are being sold, or you do and there's nothing you can do about it. Either way, he's pissed. And we all know what happens when Takasugi is pissed. He's going to get rid of them because, well, you know _how he is_ with Zura. That's a dedicated friend right there.”

“We were having a good time?” Gintoki asked, his voice rising an octave. “In the videos?”

“Yeah?” Sakamoto asked, eyebrow raising. “Kin-chan, you're hyperventilating are you-”

Gintoki started to laugh, a hand going to his face as he started to cackle, not because it was funny but because it was completely ridiculous. Gintoki crumpled forward, hands on his knees, laughing hysterically because Takasugi had come all the way back to Earth over Zura’s sketchy video and he didn’t even _know_. Him and Sakamoto didn’t even _know_ what really happened to them, what was still happening to them. They didn't know what Gintoki and Zura were going through, and that was in Nakamura's favor. _Everything_ ended up in Nakamura's favor! As long as Takasugi didn't find out about the nature of Katsura's videos, about the nature of Nakamura and Katsura's _relationship_ , Nakamura didn't have much to worry about besides Takasugi forcibly taking some video footage and doing whatever he planned to do with it.

Nakamura, did he have plans for this too? Does he have something in place to blackmail the other half of the Joui? Did their timely arrival really make everything worse?

Of course, Sakamoto started to laugh right along with Gintoki. Cackling with him just because laughing was contagious and Sakamoto never held back from it. It sounded lighthearted and cheery, always made things seem a little lighter. Sounded supportive. But for how long? When would Nakamura just sink his claws into Sakamoto’s never-ending joy? How long until Nakamura took that away too? How long until Nakamura realized he could have not two but _four_ Joui rolling over for him and taking his hits?

Gintoki giggled out the last of his hysterics, face hidden in his hands. “This is a disaster.” He cried, literally, the laughter suddenly turning into choked sobs at the thought of Sakamoto being dragged into this. “Holy shit, what a mess.”

“Holy shit!” Sakamoto agreed, reaching out, his hand on Gintoki's shoulder. “Aha Kintoki? Why are you crying?”

And that was how Hijikata found them when he finally arrived ten minutes later, walking in on them standing in the front yard like a couple of weirdos. Gintoki was smothered in another hug with tears on his cheeks, Sakamoto's laughter still ringing out as he rubbed small circles against his back and said weirdly comforting things.

“Are you all on drugs?” Hijikata asked, moving closer. His voice was joking enough, but there was a touch of concern as his eyes landed on Gintoki. Embarrassed, Gintoki turned his face further into Sakamoto’s stupid jacket, mentally demanding himself to stop right this moment. He needed to get his shit together right away. Sakamoto was fine and as long as he went back to space within the next twenty-four hours, he would remain fine.

“Ha ha! Ha, hi, who are you?” Sakamoto asked, patting Gintoki’s back. “Are you a side character like me? I've never seen you before.”

“I show up in every other episode.” Hijikata said. “I'm Hijikata Toushiro, the Vice Chief of the Shinsengumi. I’ve never seen you before either.”

“Of course you've never seen me before. I have no screen time. Sakamoto Tatsuma, the greatest merchant in at least a quarter of space.” Sakamoto said, pushing Gintoki away from the hug. “This is my friend Gintoki.”

“Uh, yeah.” Hijikata said. “I know him. He's a lazy-ass who's going to get diabetes.”

Gintoki started to laugh again, a hand over his face. He wiped his cheeks dramatically, before glancing up to Hijikata when he figured he was presentable enough. He cracked his best smile, but it was obviously strained.

Hijikata looked worried as he moved closer, joining their little group, standing closer to Gintoki than Sakamoto. “What happened?”

“Where’s Zura?” Gintoki asked instead because that was the important question right now.

“Sougo left the hospital to go do some work, and I’m here.” Hijikata said, eyes shifting over to Sakamoto suspiciously. Sakamoto only grinned brighter like a weirdo. Gintoki found Hijikata's unsettled response amusing. “So he might not even be there anymore even though I told him to stay put. You know how he is. Um, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gintoki said, shooing Sakamoto away suddenly with his hands. “Go apologize to Kagura for missing her birthday party before she drop-kicks you out of the yard.”

Sakamoto laughed, hands on his hips. “Wow, I’m being cast away as a background character in a fic too!” He laughed the entire way into the house, an uproar starting inside the second Kagura saw him. Sadaharu had come in from the yard too, was yipping up a storm. And judging by the muffled screaming, Sakamoto hadn't been prepared for the dog to swallow him half whole.

“Who is that guy?” Hijikata asked, eyes still over Gintoki’s shoulder at the door.

“An old friend. He's harmless, don't worry about him. Talking to him will only make you stupider.” Gintoki said, sighing. He reached out, pinching Hijikata's cheek. “You look tired. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Why were you crying just now?” Hijikata asked, attention shifting to Gintoki, his voice softer. He grabbed Gintoki's hand to push it off his face, but he didn't exactly let go. “Are you okay?”

Gintoki kept his mouth shut, unsure if he should mention Nakamura showing up at the doorstep. Wondered if he should confess that Shinpachi had lied to the police, and that a guy worse than Nakamura is stalking the streets. _Hopefully, Takasugi just gets rid of him._ He just stared at Hijikata instead of saying anything, wondering what he ever did to deserve good friends like this.

“Gintoki, you can’t keep quiet like this.” Hijikata said quietly, squeezing his hand. “Nakamura is loose, if something happened I need to know so I can help you. We need to team up, you and Zura especially. Don't let him get you guys alone.”

Gintoki chuckled suddenly, his face taking on a less serious look. “Basically, we might have a huge problem or we might have just gotten our trump card.” Gintoki said, shrugging. “Hard to tell right now. I mean, worst-case scenario, Edo might be overrun by criminals worse than Joui, and best case scenario, Nakamura might be forced to quit his own game, if not disappear completely.”

“Stop being vague.” Hijikata said, arms now crossed.

“Just… come inside.” Gintoki said, turning away. He sighed, tension leaving him a little fidgety. He paused though, considering what Sakamoto said. _They just know Nakamura sold a video of us, they don’t know he’s been blackmailing Zura, been_ _manipulating us_ _. So why did Tatsuma hug me like that?_

Gintoki glanced over his shoulder, eyes dark like he was preparing to go into battle. His heart was thrumming nervously, but he knew he could trust Hijikata with his life if he had to. “Hey. I... need you to come with me later. Off record.”

 

–

 

Katsura glanced over to his window, the gentle _tap tap_ catching his attention. It was Elizabeth in the window, bandages wrapped around her head and body, her sign tapping against the glass. She was smiling her little duck smile, so excited to see him.

Aware there were guards at his door, Katsura silently got out of the hospital bed, dragging only a single wire with him to the window so he could pop it open. He tried not to hurry just in case he made noise, but it was damn hard. He was almost crying with how happy he was that Elizabeth was okay.

[Are you okay?] Elizabeth asked, her expression pure concern.

Katsura almost nodded, almost continued on this charade of lying for Nakamura, but he shook his head no at the last second. Elizabeth stared for a moment longer, eyes tearing up to the point Katsura’s eyes almost started to leak too.

[What happened?] Elizabeth asked, before realizing that having this conversation at the hospital window was not ideal. Considering they were on the fourth floor. And there was no balcony. Elizabeth just scaled a wall for him. [Nakamura has requested a meeting with you at eleven tonight. Are you okay to go? Do you want me to reschedule it? Do you need to stay here for a bit? Are you okay? You don't look well.]

Katsura’s face must have shown everything because Elizabeth’s sign changed back to concern. Waving her off, Katsura turned away, sneaking back to the bedside and turning to the machine. After a couple of minutes of fiddling, he got the heart monitor turned off – set to alert anyone if his heartbeat were to suddenly disappear due to an escape attempt – and pulled the clip off his finger, tossing it onto the bed.

He was missing within the next thirty seconds, not that anyone knew, sneaking down back-alley's with Elizabeth at his side, the duck both concerned and content to be with him. He had a stupid smile on his face as they snuck around, stupidly pleased to be out free again with Elizabeth, like they were living in a simpler time where Nakamura didn't exist.

But Nakamura did exist, and he was still fucking shit up.

It wasn’t until they were further away and hidden from view that Katsura finally stopped, finally turned to Elizabeth. “I’m sorry.” He said, continuing on before Elizabeth could question him. “I have been lying to you and helping to weave a web of deception for Nakamura because he has managed to obtain power over me. He wants the Joui, and I have lost the power to keep them from him. I have been compromised.”

[It’s okay. We know.] Elizabeth said, her sign flipping the second Katsura looked panicked. [We’ve noticed you’ve been acting strange. You haven't been well since Nakamura joined up, I’ve known something was wrong since you sent me with those letters for the kids. And the men are upset about the bombs, that’s not our style anymore, they already think Nakamura is a bad influence. There are a lot of rumors right now, most of them in your defense.]

“Elizabeth.” Misty-eyed again, Katsura's eyes traveled to the ground. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

[Shush!] Elizabeth lightly smacked him over the head with the sign. [It wasn’t your fault. Nakamura tried to tell me you ordered the hit. I didn’t believe him for a second, I just pretended like I did to trick him! What are we going to do about this meeting?]

 _You've fallen into a role, that's why this is still happening._ Hijikata’s words suddenly came back to him, but Katsura knew now. Glancing up, Katsura's eyes were half-lidded. “I’m going to go and meet with him. I will listen if only to pacify him for right now. But you’re going to wait for me outside.” Katsura said. “When I come out, and you need to make sure I come out, I will decide how we proceed.”

Elizabeth blinked, head tilting. [What have these meetings been about anyway?]

Katsura didn't answer, because he didn’t really think he needed to explain. “I believe I should go see Gintoki right now. He can help us. He should help us. I've dragged him into this too. He's been hurt just like you were.” He also wanted to make sure that Gintoki was _okay_ still, and that his brief hospital trip hadn't landed Gintoki in trouble for Katsura's deceitful plan. The worry was strong, but with Elizabeth now, things looked a little easier.

[That's why he was acting strange too?] Elizabeth asked. [Also, I don't know if you know, but your friend is here to visit. We heard his ship land. Surprised the Shinsengumi didn't hear him land too.]

Katsura glanced up, eyes wide. Sakamoto's ships were quiet as mice to help with his seasickness so that left only one other person. “Takasugi is here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic! Keeps getting longer! The end is actually near, I promise!
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! I do read them (and then re-read them and then re-re-read them) and it does make me happy that you're all as invested into this as I am! Anyway! Come scream with me on [Tumblr](https://merrrrp.tumblr.com/)!


	18. Dragging Your Friends Into Your Problems Can Lead To Unexpected Support

When Katsura strode into Shinpachi’s living room an hour later, there was an uproar. Gintoki expected it really, considering Katsura didn’t use the front door like a regular human being. He just kind of showed up through the side door, skulking into the main room with Elizabeth in tow. Sadaharu was the first one to notice, the first to bark excitedly and tackle Elizabeth playfully(?). Elizabeth playfully(?) punched Sadaharu back, and then they were running through the house after each other, shaking the floorboards until they disappeared outside. Hopefully not to murder each other.

“Zura!” Both kids yelled at the same time, Kagura immediately turning around from where she sat in front of Mutsu, to threaten Hijikata with her pointer finger aimed at him because ‘what happens under this roof stays under this roof and if you arrest him I’ll break your arm’.

“Zura-chi!” Sakamoto yelled from where he sat on the floor in front of the TV, after being kicked off the couch by Shinpachi and Mutsu

“S-Sakamoto?” Katsura asked, eyes widening almost comically. He looked pleasantly surprised. Gintoki smiled.

“Zura-chiiii!” Sakamoto yelled. He was up on his feet in a moments notice, flying across the room to gather Katsura up into a tight hug. Katsura was stunned motionless, an odd laugh escaping him. Gintoki glanced over from the couch, eyes stupidly fond, watching Katsura struggle and Sakamoto’s face beam into pure glee. What a couple of idiots.

“It’s not Zura-chi, it’s Katsura!”

Beside Gintoki, Hijikata didn’t look up from his paperwork, but he did huff a laugh.

“Oh no!” Sakamoto yelled, arms wrapping completely around Zura, holding him tight. Katsura murmured a complaint low under his breath, trying to push back, but Sakamoto had him trapped just like he had trapped Gintoki earlier. Much quieter, Sakamoto laughed in his ear. “You're so small!”

“Shut up.” Katsura said, pushing against him. “You're hugging too tight. What are you even doing here? Let me go. These are the manners of a pleb!”

“Why is that the word of the day!” Sakamoto whined. “I’m not a pleb and you know it! I had more money than all of you put together!”

“Had?” Mutsu asked suspiciously, pausing the fishtail braid she had started in Kagura's hair.

“What are you doing here? And why is-” Katsura paused, finally breaking away from Sakamoto. He held him at arm's length, staring into his soul. “Why are you here, Sakamoto?”

“Why are _you_ here?” Hijikata jumped in, shooting a glance from the couch where he was hunched over the paperwork Gintoki had tried to hide from him earlier. “You're supposed to be in the hospital. Recovering. And how do you both know this Sakamoto guy?”

“Ha ha! Ha ha ha!” Sakamoto waggled his eyebrows, spinning away from Katsura. “I already told you I’m a space merchant! Let me tell you more about my space travels, Mr. Demon Vice Chief! These guys won’t even listen to me anymore, they just hit me and tell me to shut up!”

“You were bullshitting those stories, weren't you?” Hijikata asked, already heated by the topic. He had spent the past hour listening to Sakamoto talk, and Sakamoto could say _a lot_ in only an hour. “You have to be. None of them can be true!”

“But they are!” Sakamoto exclaimed.

“They are!” Kagura agreed, getting up to defend him, her hair half done. She jumped onto the couch, flopping down between Gintoki and Hijikata, snapping the paper out of Hijikata's hand. “I totally went on one of his cool adventures! We crash landed and there was a giant sand monster! And the other time there was a giant whale with a unicorn horn on his nose and he was out for blood!”

“When did that happen?” Gintoki asked.

“When we had a break from the anime.” Shinpachi explained. “You were out getting drunk, so Kagura and I went with Sakamoto for a space adventure. You didn't even notice.”

“Hey, don’t tell him that story! That’s a bad story! Ha ha ha! There was no horny narwhal!”

“There is no such thing. Narwhals are mythological creatures!” Hijikata said defensively. “There is no whale in this world or the Amanto world that has a horn on its nose!”

“Is that when you left me trapped on the ship?” Mutsu asked angrily. “For days? Because _someone_ had the key and was too busy pleasuring himself in the shallow pools?”

“What kind of story is this?” Gintoki asked, appalled.

“You would have died if you were locked away for days.” Hijikata tried to argue. “I'm calling bullshit!”

“You can't say that word here! It's fudge nuggets!” Kagura yelled.

“Zura, let's go get something while these idiots fight. Come here.” Gintoki said, getting up from the couch now that everyone was properly distracted and yelling. He waved Katsura away from the group, pulling him aside because there were too many chatty characters in one scene. “It's so noisy in here.”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura.”

In the entrance to the much quieter kitchen, they both sighed.

“Why is Sakamoto here? Oh. Do you know who else is here?” Katsura asked, following Gintoki into the kitchen. “It's super suspicious and I haven’t determined if it’s a good thing yet or a bad thing.”

“The shrimp?” Gintoki cleared his throat, opening the fridge. He proceeded to tell Katsura Sakamoto’s story as to why they had come to Earth, gave him the details exactly as Sakamoto had given them. When he was done, he closed the fridge, moving to the cupboards to root around in there too.

Katsura stood leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, hands disappeared into his sleeves. He stared, mouth oddly grim. “They… don't _know_?”

Gintoki shook his head, rummaging through the shelves some more. “Seems our hot-headed dumbass just acted out of anger, as usual. Sounds like he thought Nakamura stumbled across the videos and decided to sell them.” Gintoki said, obtaining a couple of granola bars from a mostly empty box in the back. He closed the cupboards. “They don’t know it wasn’t consensual. They don’t know about any of this.” He opened one of the granola bars, handing it over to Katsura. “But I'm pretty sure they both know something is wrong because why else would they be here?”

Katsura sighed, accepting the snack without even thinking about it. He glanced to it suspiciously before crossing his arms. “Nakamura has already reached out to me. He sent Elizabeth to me with a message. He wants to see me tonight at eleven.”

“Eleven?” Gintoki asked, popping open his own bar and eating half of it in one go. He continued to talk with his mouth full. “He came here. Talked to the kids right in front of me. He wants me there at ten and he said this is because we've been in contact. Sounds like he’s planning something big.”

“Think it has something to do with Takasugi?” Katsura asked. He sighed, deflating. “I'm… I don't want to go. I really don't want to go. I don’t want to do this all over again. Gintoki, I’m never going to get out. He didn’t even send threats, he just sent Elizabeth with the message and I _know_ I’m going to go and I know what he’s going to do and-”

“Come with me for ten, then.” Gintoki said, pointing his finger at Katsura’s snack. “I don't want to go either, but. You know how this goes. He shows up, makes threats, we go. What a waste of word count. So at ten, come with me. We go in and come out together. Hijikata is, well we haven't really _discussed_ the details yet. But I'm going to see if Hijikata'll wait for me outside, to make sure Nakamura doesn't drug me and take me somewhere again.”

“No, you're not going to go.” Katsura said, shaking his head. “You're not going to go at all. I'll just go to him at ten. You need to stay here.”

“Zura.”

“No.” Katsura said again. “No. Gintoki, I need you to stay _safe._ You need to stay here. I will go to him, I will obey him and let him do whatever needs to be done so I can leave and come back as soon as possible. This is just about appeasing him until we come up with another plan. Just let him have his way, for now, Gintoki. I will do it. I will listen.”

“And if he threatens you, tells you to stay away from us?” Gintoki asked a little more sternly than he intended. “What then? When you disappear? And what if this 'let him have his way' ends up long-term? Then what?”

“Sakamoto and Mutsu are here. Hijikata's here. As long as you all stick together, you should be okay. Just. I need _you_ to be okay.” Katsura sighed, hand to his head. “I don't even want to talk about him, I just want five minutes with my friends that don't revolve around _him_.”

“You can't go by yourself.” Gintoki said. “I need you safe too, you know.”

“I'm not safe until this is over.” It was an admittance. An understanding. It frustrated Gintoki beyond belief. “If I listen, Gintoki, you're safe. Let me go alone. Please.”

“I'll talk to Hijikata.” Gintoki said. “At least let him take you to make sure you come back.”

“I will go _alone_.”

Gintoki kept his mouth closed for a moment. He was going to talk to Hijikata, regardless. Katsura might be stubborn, but so was Gintoki. He might not go with Zura, but Zura certainly wasn't going _alone_ alone.

He moved closer, leaning against the same counter right beside him. “Zura. I know you wanted to end this peacefully, but we’re running out of options. If you want to cut him down, do it. I will stand behind you if you make that call and no one will think less of you. If you want me to do it, I will gladly cut his dick off in the process.” Gintoki said quietly, watching as Katsura finally tore a little piece of the bar off. “But if not, if Nakamura finds out about Takasugi, he will try to rope him in. We should let him make his own mistakes with that loose mouth of his. He'd probably be stupid enough to try and use us to blackmail Takasugi. And you can imagine what will happen to that man if Takasugi finds out what he did to you.”

“You want to use Takasugi as bait?” Katsura asked, finally eating the piece he'd broken off. He was considering the idea. “He’s trying to fish out the big sharks but you want to give him the kraken?”

“What do you know about the kraken?”

“Leviathan, then?”

“Takasugi isn’t cool enough to be Leviathan! He’s more like a little pea puffer fish spinning in circles from swim bladder disease.”

“What’s that kind of fish going to do against Nakamura!”

“Hey, hey, what's this secret conversation you're leaving me out of?” Sakamoto asked loudly, moving into the room with a bounce in his step. “Sounds like you two are conspiring against this Nakamura guy, not that I was overhearing or anything, ha ha! You're really considering hanging Takasugi out to dry? Well, that’s rude.”

Gintoki and Katsura exchanged a look.

“Okay. Time for me to make some guesses then seeing how no one’s gonna fess up! Ha ha ha!” Sakamoto said. “I know Takasugi has already been here for like, half a week maybe? And is going to the Chop and Lop. He was probably already there, knowing him. He was pretty mad, ha ha. So I’m guessing this Nakamura fellow is in over his head, right? It’s more to it than just the videos, right?”

Gintoki glanced over, eyes wide. “He’s meeting with Nakamura over the videos? In his office?”

“Yup! He was going to demand the originals. And we _all_ know how Takasugi gets what he wants.” Sakamoto laughed, moving closer still until he was standing between them, each arm almost touching both of them. He lowered his voice a little, still smiling despite the intensity of his words. “So. What did he do?”

“What?” Gintoki asked. He knew instantly that the smile was misleading.

“Who?” Katsura asked, playing stupid. He inhaled the rest of his granola bar.

Sakamoto laughed, eyes sparkling. “Nakamura. What did he do to you two?”

Gintoki and Katsura exchanged another look.

Sakamoto laughed again, leaning in close his hand gently curling around both of their forearms. “What did he do to leave you both looking like this? Zura, you're black and blue. You weren't even this bruised in the war. And Kin-chan, what happened _earlier_?” Oh right. His little meltdown out front. There was danger in that tone, a danger that had Gintoki on edge. The same fury that had been coming out of Hijikata lately, Gintoki realized. A protective anger. _If Nakamura’s not careful, he’s going to have the Joui Four eating him alive_ and _the Demon Vice Chief._ _Not that I'd mind._

They stood silently until Katsura decided he had enough.

Katsura turned to Sakamoto, head down. He waved Gintoki away and Gintoki took his cue to leave. He shifted out of Sakamoto’s grip, slapped an arm on Katsura's bicep as a ‘good luck’, and then walked out of the kitchen.

Just the two of them, Katsura closed his eyes for a second before spitting it out. It was easier this time. Like he was reusing old dialogue, like the severity of the situation had dulled because of how commonplace Nakamura's threats and mistreatment had become. This was becoming normal. It was the simplest synopsis he could come up with without obliterating the word count, covering the Joui, the blackmail, and without being specific, he mentioned Nakamura harming the both of them.

“Nakamura?” Sakamoto asked softly when Katsura was done explaining, his arms now crossed and his eyebrows drawn together. “You and Gintoki?”

“Yes.” Katsura said, fiddling with the wrapper to his bar. “The Vice Chief is trying to help, but Nakamura's blackmailing him too. There's nothing the police can do, and they don't have any evidence besides what's on Nakamura's laptop. If Gintoki hadn't gone to Hijikata, I might still be out there on my own with no help.”

“I overheard you were hospitalized?” Sakamoto asked, his tone dangerously close to rage.

Katsura nodded, a hand to his forehead. He completely skipped that explanation. “Tonight, he wants me and Gintoki have to go back. This is just going to go on and on, Sakamoto. It's only been around two weeks, but it feels like it's been months already. There's nothing we can do. Everything is being threatened. It would be better if you left before Nakamura tries to drag you down too.”

Sakamoto started to laugh. His voice was ringing, hands suddenly at his hips. “So dire! What a terrible situation.”

“Sakamoto?” Katsura asked, glancing up to him. “Remember how we told you that sometimes it's inappropriate to laugh?”

“Ha ha haha! So you're telling me that Nakamura has you and Kin-chan wrapped around his little finger because he talks too much and openly threatens everything you care about, and no one can do anything about it? How do you plan to end this, Zura?” Sakamoto asked, laughing some more.

“End this?” Katsura asked exhausted. “I tried to end this already, Sakamoto. But he… the plan wasn't enough. There's nothing to be done as of right now.”

“Well what do you want done?” Sakamoto asked. He stopped laughing long enough to stare at Katsura, blue eyes sparkling. “You know, you're all over the place right now, Zura. It's okay. What kind of ending are you looking for?”

“Ending?” Katsura asked, eyebrow raising. He'd been so caught up in making sure he didn't fall behind Nakamura that he hadn't even had time to consider the details. After the last failed plan, perhaps Katsura had given up most of his hope. “A peaceful ending. I haven't gutted him like a fish because I refused him from day one in the name of peace. It would render everything null if I just kill him now.”

“What kind of peaceful ending?” Sakamoto asked, grinning.

“I don't want to kill him because... I don't want to be that kind of person anymore. But I still want revenge because he's forced me to turn back to bombs and he's hurt Gintoki and... I don't want Gintoki to have to get his hands dirty either.” Katsura said, eyes trailing down in frustration. “But I want him gone. Nakamura needs to stop. I don't care how he stops I just need Gintoki safe, Nakamura gone, and our hands to remain clean. I want to walk the streets without this… _fear_ anymore. When I wake up these days I'm _scared_ , Sakamoto. He's scared me.”

“Well.” Sakamoto said, his tone conspiratorial. “Sounded like you and Kintoki were on to a good plan before I walked in.”

“Takasugi.” Katsura said, his voice bland. “I don't want to manipulate him into taking care of this for me. I'm no better than Nakamura if I do that.”

“Who said anything about manipulating anyone, Zura?” Sakamoto laughed. He suddenly sprang forward, gathering Katsura into another hug. Katsura groaned in protest, body mildly aching, but he let Sakamoto hug him anyway. He actually melted into it, stress melting out of him for a moment. “You know, as soon as Takasugi finds this out, Nakamura is as good as gone regardless, right? I just need to make a phone call. And if this guy has as big of a mouth as you say, _well,_ you won't be manipulating Takasugi into anything at all. Ha ha! I'll take you all on a vacation to a nice warm planet with beaches, after! It'll be a reunion just with extra friends! We can finally teach Kintoki how to swim!”

Katsura snorted into Sakamoto's chest, eyes half-lidded. If only it could end that easily. He hugged Sakamoto back. He would still go tonight, all plans aside. They didn't have anything solid to work with and dragging Takasugi into this wasn’t a for-sure thing yet. It was better to be safe than sorry with Nakamura, Katsura decided.

Almost ten minutes prior to Katsura and Sakamoto's discussion, Gintoki returned to the living room, flopping down on the couch beside Hijikata. The officer was certainly not watching TV and definitely doing more work. Kagura and Shinpachi were in the yard teaching Mutsu how to make snowmen because, from the sounds of it, Mutsu had never done it before. Her snowman looked uncannily like Sakamoto, Kagura's was just a big Sadaharu-hotdog, and Shinpachi's looked like his pop idol.

Gintoki leaned over towards Hijikata, shoulders touching. “Hey.” Gintoki said.

“Hey.” Hijikata said back, leaning into him. He finally put down his pen. “Done your rebels meeting in the kitchen?”

“What rebels meeting? I was simply trying to load Zura up on sugar.” Gintoki said innocently.

“Did you?” Hijikata asked, glancing Gintoki's way. He had tired lines under his eyes, the excessive work and coffee leaving him nothing but a moving corpse. His eyes weren’t dead though, and that’s all Gintoki could ask for right now. “He hardly ate in the hospital, you know, and he only ate because I was sitting there nagging him. He only got fluids once. You need to feed that guy or he’ll pass out.”

“Yeah, I know.” Gintoki clicked his tongue. “We'll make an early dinner then. Listen. About needing you to come with me tonight, off record. So. Uh, Nakamura. He basically ordered me and Zura to go to the Chop and Lop tonight. Looks like he’s planning something.”

“You're not going.” Hijikata said sharply, turning towards Gintoki. “Are you crazy? You know exactly what you'll be walking into! You're not going and I won't let you. The kids are safe, Gintoki. You're all safe as long as you stick together.”

“There's been a _development_.” Gintoki said, his tone a little odd. He chuckled, eyes turned back to the TV. “Zura already talked to me about it. I'm not going. Zura wants to go in my place alone but I need someone to go with him. Just… wait in the car and make sure he comes back out. No matter who you see go in there, you wait in that car. Okay? This is just until we come up with another plan.”

Hijikata glanced over, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He had every right to be suspicious. “Who's going to show up?”

Gintoki only shrugged. “Could be someone. Could be no one. I really can’t say, but I have a gut feeling.”

Hijikata huffed. He turned away, stubbornly silent only for a couple of minutes. “And if Nakamura hurts him?”

“He will, and you can't convince Zura not to go.” Gintoki said, voice quiet and eyelids drooping. “But one way or another, I'm not letting this continue. We're just appeasing him until we take him down.” _Whether we managed to arrest him, or I go visit him myself._

Gintoki had played along long enough. At this point, he would take his chances.

Hijikata stared knowingly, his expression twisting. Finally, he huffed, turning back to his papers and files, like studying them will suddenly tell him the answer to fix this mess. “If I take him tonight, he's going to make me a deal.”

“Oh?”

Hijikata glanced to his side, checking that they were definitely alone, before speaking very quietly. “If he gets drugged or assaulted, he's going to the hospital. No stubborn fighting, no questions If Nakamura demands a bomb, Katsura is being arrested the second he makes it.”

Gintoki only shrugged noncommittally. “You'll have to discuss it with Zura.”

Ten minutes later, Sakamoto came out if the kitchen smiling like an idiot without Katsura. He gave Gintoki a shit eating grin as he walked straight by them, before disappearing into the yard yelling about snowmen and Neo Armstrong Cyclone jets. Gintoki could only _imagine_ what that look was about.

It took Gintoki a good fifteen minutes of listening to the debacle that started up outside before he too got up to go help make snowmen. He grabbed Hijikata by the forearm to drag him to his feet, forcibly took his paperwork from him, and dragged him outside, just to keep him away from the paperwork.

“What are we doing?” Hijikata asked, hands in his pockets and a moody look on his face as he followed Gintoki out the door. Gintoki jumped into the snow, ducking with a laugh.

Kagura proceeded to hit Hijikata square in the face with a snowball, a feral yell tearing across the backyard. Five minutes later, Kagura had snow down the front of her shirt and more coming, her laughter a shrill squeal as Hijikata flipped up snow all over her, even rubbing it in her hair. Behind them, Mutsu threw a snowball so hard and so off-target that it missed Hijikata and slammed into Sakamoto's gut, sending him down.

“Man down! Man down!” Sakamoto yelled, but Gintoki was too busy trying to dodge Shinpachi's manically thrown mini-snowballs, too busy laughing at Kagura and Hijikata having a throw down in the middle of the yard. Even Katsura had come out with a steaming mug of tea, watching fondly until Sadaharu and Elizabeth showed up, covered in snow and mud somehow, panting for breath and sporting several suspicious wounds. There were tree branches in Sadaharu's fur, leaves in Elizabeth's costume, and the two of them proceeded to join the snow fight, picking their respective sides.

Much later, when Hijikata was drying off his frozen hair, Sakamoto paused by the bathroom door. He watched him dry his hair with a towel for a moment like a weirdo, before he started to giggle to catch Hijikata's attention.

“Ha ha vice chief!” Sakamoto laughed, leaning against the door frame with crossed-arms. He waited until Hijikata glanced up to him, his eyes half-lidded, his smile huge. It was a little unnerving, how was this guy so happy? He had to be on drugs, right?

“Yes?” Hijikata asked, not sure how he felt about that stare.

“Zura told me everything. About Nakamura. Ha.” Sakamoto said extra casually.

Hijikata’s eyes widened. They shared this much trust? He'd had his suspicions before as to who Sakamoto was, but now, Hijikata was sure. This man was one of the original Jouishishi.

“He also told me what you've done to help him and Kin-chan.” Sakamoto said. “Their gratitude extends from me as well.”

“You… don't have to thank me.” Hijikata said awkwardly. “I mean, I'm a _police officer_ I'm supposed to help…”

“Ha ha well thank you for keeping my friends safe! They're both stupidly stubborn! Sometimes they need someone to kick them and tell them they're gonna accept help whether they like it or not!”

“You're welcome.” Hijikata said, pulling off the towel from his mostly dried hair. Sakamoto wasn't wrong about that last part, after all. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ha ha of course!” Sakamoto exclaimed, his smile huge and bright.

“I was trying to figure out how they knew you. Trying to figure out how the three of you ended up so close.” Hijikata said. “You're the fourth Joui, aren't you? The one that disappeared from the war and simply vanished from everyone's radar? The guy no one can name?”

Sakamoto laughed. He laughed hard, a hand on his stomach. “What? Me? You think I'm that loud fella who wasn't even remembered? The Dragon of Katsurahara is dead. He died on the battlefield the day he lost his sword arm.” Sakamoto said. “I'm just a pacifist sailing the galaxy to make trades that usually earn me more money than I give, who occasionally comes back to Earth because the women here are the best. Ha ha!”

Hijikata couldn’t help chuckle. He was such a weird guy, it was hard to think that perhaps he had gone to war. Given Gintoki and Katsura's temperaments, Hijikata wasn't surprised one of the Heavenly Four was this crazy. _The only one who turned out scary is Takasugi._

“And sometimes when my friends need some help, I come down here to start some shit. Ha ha, it's so easy! Aha!” Sakamoto said, laughing some more. “So, Mr. Demon Vice Chief, I am leaving my friends in your care while I go stir the pot. I hear you need some good 'ol dirt to slam Nakamura.” Sakamoto winked, backing out of the room. “We're friends now. Consider it a thank-you for all of your help so far.”

Left in the room by himself, Hijikata couldn't help but feel a little mystified. First of all, how did Sakamoto expect to get more information that the police had? And second of all, did Hijikata just become friends with _another_ really nice war-criminal?

 

–

 

“You go in. You find out what he wants. Play nice. And you come out. You hear me?” Hijikata asked, briefly glancing over to Katsura in the passenger seat. “In and out.”

They’d been arguing over this the entire drive down because Katsura didn't think he needed Hijikata to wait for him. Katsura didn't think it was safe, thought it would get him into more trouble. He was also worried Hijikata would be targeted if he waited outside. Katsura knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't help it.

“We'll see.” Katsura said, staring out the front window. “I'm not sure how long this will take.”

“Yamazaki is watching the back door.” Hijikata said. He was gritting his teeth, staring out the front window, hands tight on the steering wheel even though the car was off. “If you're assaulted, you're going to the hospital. End of story. That was my deal. Because in case you haven't noticed, I'm really worried about you.” He glanced over then, his expression genuine concern. “You shouldn't even be here, going in there.”

Katsura sighed, turning away, his forehead thumping into the window. “Can I just get this over with?”

“Katsura.”

Katsura glanced over, his lips pressed firmly shut.

“You'll be okay.” Hijikata said quietly. “I'll wait here for you, so you better come back fast.”

Ugh. Where did Gintoki find this guy? He was surprisingly sweet beneath that mayonnaise addiction and that hot temper. “I'll be back, then.” Katsura said, finally pulling the door open and stepping out. Hijikata had discretely parked out front, a little ways down the block so he could see anyone going in or out the front door. Somewhere in the alley, Yamazaki had been called to watch the back door.

If all of this ended, Katsura would make sure he went to thank that man. Yamazaki had already helped so much. And then he would thank Hijikata too. He hadn't expected so much help. He hadn't expected so much concern.

In the alley just out of Hijikata's view, Katsura suddenly stopped, one hand going out to the wall. His nerves had caught up to him, stress flipping his stomach. He suddenly leaned over and threw up his meager dinner, apprehension settling into him like a brick wall.

He didn't want to go.

He entered the Chop and Lop anyway. There was no bald-door man for once, the man seemingly MIA. Katsura opened the door to Nakamura's office just as the clock hit 10:01, anxiety already taking over. His head was light, ears ringing.

Nakamura glanced up from his computer, his smile bright before he frowned, realizing that it wasn't Gintoki.  
“Oh, what a surprise.” He said, unamused. “It's you, Zura. Amazing.”

Katsura didn't say anything as he moved into the room. He carefully took a seat at the chair, hands folding in his lap. He did his best to sit straight, hands on his thighs.

“Very, very interesting.” Nakamura said, spinning in his chair towards him. He glanced to Katsura, eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to pull another fast one on me? Because we all know what I'm capable of-”

“No.” Katsura said.

“And why would I believe you, Zura?” Nakamura asked. “I told you to come at eleven, didn't I? You think showing up early without Gintoki will put you back in my good books, especially after what you did the other day, dragging the police into this? Or are you here because you really know I'm going to punish you through him and you wanted to try and stop me? You wanted to protect Gintoki? Because if that's it-”

“I wasn't trying to stop you.” Katsura said, his voice as even as he dared. “I want–”

“It doesn't matter what you want.” Nakamura said sharply. “Did you tell Gintoki not to come?”

Katsura hesitated. “Yes.”

“You understand I threatened Hijikata, yes?”

“Yes.”

“You understand that now, I will just have to drag both Gintoki _and_ the Vice Chief down here, right? Because of you? All within the next hour. And if things go wrong?” Nakamura asked. “You understand this is about you _listening_. And by making the decision to tell Gintoki not to come? You're working against me Zura. I have an important meeting planned for midnight, and your cooperation is absolutely necessary. I was going to use Gintoki to make sure you do and say exactly as I want. The kids' abduction is on call now. Now I also have to go through the measures of making sure Gintoki and Hijikata are also being targeted. Do you know how much work you're making me do? How is your skull so thick that you _still_ don't get it? This is about _you._ This is all your fault. Just _listen to me_ , Zura.” His voice was raising, temper flaring. Katsura was surprised to hear the desperation in his voice. “I need to be sure you're not going to muck this meeting up. I need to be sure you're going to say and do what you're supposed to. How do you expect to guarantee that? The consequences for this will be extreme.”

Katsura swallowed thickly, his eyes going to the carpet. The only thing keeping him together was Gintoki's comment about Nakamura wasting word count. In a less dire situation, Katsura would have laughed. But he'd come up with a strategy in the car, decided to be as obedient as possible. Cautiously, Katsura stood up, moving towards the desk. He pulled his scabbard from his belt, ever so slowly placing it on Nakamura's desk, his fingers lingering on the scabbard as it settled down.

He made sure to whisper, hardly heard. “I'm out of moves.”

Nakamura raised his eyebrow, a large smile playing on his lips. “Is that so? So what are you telling me?”

Katsura remained frozen, hand still on his blade, eyes still cast down. “I am strategically submitting. I cannot defend anyone like this. I didn't want Gintoki to see me do this.”

Nakamura snorted, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You've said something similar, right before plotting against me. Or did you forget what just happened the other night? Did you think I forgot about what happened with the police?”

Swallowing, Katsura slowly moved along the side of the desk, one step in front of the other, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. His hand dragged along the desk, more to keep him upright, the spin in his head terrible. Around the desk, he stopped, eyes on Nakamura as Nakamura spun his office chair Katsura's way. His legs were splayed in the chair, a smile now on his face.

“I'll be loyal, and I'm sorry.” Katsura said. He stepped between Nakamura's knees, ever so slowly dropping down to his own.

 

–

 

Outside, two hours later and ten seconds away from kicking down Nakamura's door, Hijikata's impatiently tapping finger suddenly came to a stop against the steering wheel. He was leaning against his other hand, elbow propped against the door, when he noticed someone on the side of the street approaching the alley to the Chop and Lop. From this far away, Hijikata could only make out a dark figure. Possibly just a pedestrian.

His cellphone was suddenly ringing, Yamazaki's name popping up on the screen.

Hijikata answered, watching as the figure came into view just outside the alley. The man paused, glancing Hijikata's way. Squinting, Hijikata didn't say anything, didn't hear Yamazaki's panicked voice. His eyes were widening, not quite sure if he needed glasses, if his eyes were tricking him.

There, standing in front of the dark alley noting Hijikata's presence, was Takasugi Shinsuke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun(fun) fact! I didn't know Narwhals weren't mythological creatures until last year!!! They really exist!!! There are documentaries!!!!!!


	19. You Know What A Wild Card Is, Right?

Gintoki was pacing. Around the living room, through the Shimura's halls, he continued to make rounds of the house. He was anxious and irritated, sore and unsure. Cooped up, but here of his own free will.

He couldn't wouldn't shouldn't leave the kids alone. Even though Mutsu was there with him, sleeping among the dog pile of Kagura and Shinpachi and Otae, Gintoki couldn't just _leave_ them. But he didn't want to remain idle either.

Katsura could take care of himself, had been taking care of himself thus far, and Hijikata was with him. But as Gintoki paced into the living room again at one in the morning, he couldn't help the worried thoughts. _What if Nakamura gets Hijikata too? What if he gets both of them? What if Takasugi isn't involved, doesn't change anything? What if disobeying him lands him at my front door? If he takes it out on Zura?_

“You should stop pacing.”

Gintoki paused in the doorway to the kitchen, sighing. He didn’t bother to glance over his shoulder, Mutsu's even tone the most familiar thing he'd heard all day. “Has Sakamoto been in contact?” He asked instead. Sakamoto had left hours ago, hadn't come back. Just the fact that Sakamoto wasn't _here_ while Nakamura was out _there_ had Gintoki stressed. _He really got to me, didn't he?_

“He has been.” Mutsu said. “Not sure what he's accomplished, but my phone has been going off regularly.”

_Good._

“You should come and sit down.” Mutsu said. She moved over to the couch, her feet light and her posture relaxed. “Between you and I, no one is getting in here.”

Gintoki hesitated for a second, before walking over to join her. Sinking into the couch cushions was pleasant, his body suddenly alerting him to how overworked and exhausted it was. Gintoki sighed, sagging. If Zura and Hijikata and Sakamoto were here, he could probably sleep.

Mutsu flipped on the TV, scrolling through channels until she landed on a soap opera. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Mutsu's gaze never straying to him. “Sakamoto knows more than he's saying. He's not leaving until you are both safe.”

Gintoki only hummed, tired eyes fixed on the TV.

“Your other friend too.”

Honestly, that was what Gintoki had been worried about. _Takasugi_. Gintoki didn't know where he was or what he was doing, and as much as he hated to admit it, Takasugi might be their only way out.

Cracking a smile, Gintoki closed his eyes. _Nakamura wouldn't stand a chance._

 

–

 

“Anything I should be aware of?” Takasugi asked, ten minutes before midnight, before he went down to the Chop and Lop to see which angle Nakamura had decided to play. He was in the building across the street from the barber shop, where Bansai had staked-out a room to do some old fashioned spying. The musician was perched in the window like a bird of prey, the curtain drawn back so he could peep with his binoculars.

Takasugi found it amusing, but of course, he would never admit that. Instead, he just lingered in the shadows, aware that Bansai could only have suspicions or bad news.

It wasn't like Takasugi had been idle all evening. He knew enough about Nakamura now to know that he was at least a slimy bastard who stooped low to get his own way. The man was selling questionable videos of important people, more than just Zura and Gintoki, but the man was involved _just_ enough that it was obvious the videos weren't his main focus. A side business. He was making just enough money to fund _something_ , but what that _something_ was, Takasugi couldn't say.

“Nakamura has been there almost all day.” Bansai pulled the binoculars away from his eyes, glancing up to Takasugi beside him. “And I daresay, a friend of yours has shown up.”

“Sakamoto?” Takasugi asked, aware that the man had been calling him excessively all afternoon and evening now. Takasugi hadn't answered his phone once. He had come to Earth to clean up those videos of Katsura, and Sakamoto hadn't been invited. The bastard had just followed along.

“Katsura.” Bansai said mystically, turning back to the shop. “And a friend of his, I would assume. Dropped Katsura off two hours ago and hasn't left the shop yet. I daresay he's waiting for Katsura to come back out.”

 _Peculiar._ Takasugi didn't ask, because he doubted Bansai knew why they were there or what Zura was doing. Chances were though that Sakamoto had something to do with it. What was Zura doing here, meeting with the man selling videos of him? Maybe Takasugi should have answered Sakamoto’s excessive calls after all. There was something here that preemptively irritated him.

“He threw up in the alley before he went in.” Bansai said casually. “Katsura, I mean.”

“Oh?”

“Your other friend has also been calling all night, I must say.” Bansai chuckled. “Excessively so.”

“Sakamoto.” Takasugi said, sure this time. He narrowed his eye on the barber shop, an odd sort of suspicion passing through him. Ever since he had run into that glasses kid Gintoki kept around, had cut the kid-free after the vague explanation _I was_ _kidnapped_ , Takasugi had been suspicious. Suspicious of what, he wasn't sure. Katsura was bombing the city after years of inactivity. Gintoki wasn't watching after his kids and, most importantly, _saving_ them either. Sakamoto plaguing him with phone calls, twice as many since landing on Earth. Nakamura was running a porn ring out of the back of a decent looking barber shop, selling videos of less than savory natures. And here Katsura was, in the barbershop with the man running the ring, his friend waiting outside.

Suspicious.

“Sakamoto's a decent fella, but I didn't answer. His lady sent a text though.” Bansai said casually. “Said you might want to ask Nakamura what he did to Zura. Said you might want to get involved, to stop idiots from being idiots”

 _What he did to Zura?_ Takasugi noted it and left just as silently as he had come.

Down on the street, he eyed the black car Bansai had pointed out suspiciously. There was a man in the driver's seat eyeing him up, obviously watching the Chop and Lop to those who knew better. Takasugi wasn't familiar with Zura's Earth friends, but he assumed this man must have been just another one. Spontaneously, Takasugi approached the car.

He rapped his knuckles against the window, the man inside the vehicle looking out at him with wide blue eyes. Every so slowly, the man popped the door open, stepping out. A healthy dose of discomfort and apprehension passed over the man's face as he stood up, pushing the door closed behind him. It was only now that Takasugi noticed his uniform. He was… both surprised and not surprised at the same time. Katsura had a habit of making friends in unlikely positions of power, after all.

“Hijikata Toushiro of the Shinsengumi.” Takasugi said, eyeing him up. His gaze rose to the Vice Chief's, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. Well. This was an interesting turn of events. “The Demon Vice Chief.”

“Takasugi.” Hijikata said cautiously. He was frozen in spot, standing straight, no doubt trying to analyze the threat Takasugi posed. Takasugi was unbothered by it. Minor details.

“You dropped off Zura.” Takasugi said, the information he had on Katsura's situation – the video, it was more than just the video, wasn't it? – not quite piecing together anymore. “Why is that?”

Hijikata's tense expression of alarm suddenly shifted. Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes and stared at Takasugi in scrutiny like he was suddenly realizing something. “They knew you were coming, didn't they?” He suddenly looked a little angry. “You know about Nakamura?”

Takasugi quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise remained silent.

“They can't take Nakamura out themselves, so they're getting you to do it.” Hijikata said, finality in his tone. “Whether you know it or not, it seems.” Hijikata popped the door to the car open at Takasugi's blank stare, the officer no longer looking unnerved. “You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?”

“What is the situation?” Takasugi asked, his tone a little rough now. The officer wasn't making sense, but Takasugi could take a hint when he was given one. Something was going on, and _they_ , Zura, probably Gintoki, maybe even Sakamoto, were all in on it. Nakamura too.

Hijikata swung the door open, the muscles in his face suddenly harsh. He suddenly looked like a demon ready for blood. “You go in there. You do what you need to do, but Katsura comes out before you. Do you understand? No matter what that man tries to tell you, you get Zura out of there. I'll take him home.”

 _Ask him what he did to Zura._ Takasugi's eye narrowed, mouth pulling into a thin line because if Zura had the _police_ friend worried about him, enough to look the other way when Takasugi showed up? This man, the Vice Chief of the Shinsengumi, hadn't threatened to arrest him yet. This man was talking like Takasugi might be able to _fix_ the situation.

“What did Nakamura do to him?”

Hijikata scoffed, fury and what could have been prolonged frustration washing over his face. “Ask Nakamura. He's got a big mouth.” Hijikata said getting into the car with a scoff. “If you make a mess of him I will arrest you tomorrow, so make sure you leave. This is the _only_ time I will turn blind eyes to you, you understand?”

Premature anger washed through Takasugi's chest. _What kind of situation would lead the police to ignore my presence?_

Hijikata closed the door.

Just as silently as he had come, Takasugi disappeared into the shadows of the sidewalk, heading back to the alley of the Chop and Lop. Takasugi didn't hesitate at the back door, letting himself in. Bansai had taken care of the door-guard, the man's shiny bald head visible even in the dark. There had been three others watching the shop too, all which had been taken care of. Nakamura had been vigilant, it seemed, but he wouldn't be prepared for Takasugi's arrival.

He entered the hall silently, already expecting this to go bad, entered Nakamura's office the exact same way. He didn't bother knocking as he stepped in, eye instantly falling on Katsura, sitting almost casually in another chair right beside Nakamura's. Nakamura was facing Katsura, saying something, but Katsura's attention was on Takasugi the second the door opened.

Behind his desk, Nakamura spun Takasugi's way. He didn't look surprised by his arrival. “Ah, you're on time. Promptness is very good for business.”

Takasugi didn't comment, moving closer to the desk but pausing right beside the chair. “Do you have what I asked for?” He asked, his eye fixated on Zura. The second they made eye contact, Katsura looked down to his lap with his jaw tense. His eyelashes fluttered when he blinked.

A burning rage instantly erupted in Takasugi's chest, but he knew better than to unleash the demon inside too soon. He knew better than to give in to the demon’s fury. His eye widened a fraction, Nakamura's carefully worded excuses falling on deaf ears because Katsura's skin was black and blue against the paleness and he wouldn't even _look_ at him. He was trembling where he sat, eyes averted, face down. He was sitting casually like Gintoki would – he would _never._ _Ask what he did to Zura._ _You get Zura out of there._

Katsura hadn’t even looked this bad during the war.

“Zura.” Takasugi said. His eye was focused on Katsura, flinching at the sound of his voice. But from the corner of it, he saw Nakamura glance up not to Takasugi, the threat in the room, but back at Zura. His dark eyes were narrowed, his smile crooked a little less pleasant and a little nastier than before. Aggressive. Controlling.

Takasugi's head twitched slightly to the side.

“Takasugi.” Zura’s voice was even when he spoke, but the careful way he said Takasugi’s name had Takasugi seeing red. “There has been a misunderstanding. I agreed to have the videos sold months ago. No one knew it was me until someone leaked the photos last week.” Katsura said. His face turned red, so convincingly embarrassed as he glanced down. Nakamura, in his seat, looked pleased. If it had been anyone else, they would have believed him. “I'm- I'm sorry you found out like this. About.. well... I... have an Amanto _kink_...”

Those were the words that left his mouth but he was lying straight through his teeth and continuing to do so. Takasugi glanced back to Nakamura. Really looked him over. Watched the predatory way he was watching Zura. He was so lax in his chair, so smug and confident. Katsura was lying for this man, and Takasugi would be damned if he didn’t find out _why_.

Because Takasugi already knew about that _Amanto_ in the video. Katsura, after some convincing, had let him take care of it almost seven years ago. That Amanto never touched another human again, let alone himself. That was why Takasugi had come, because he knew the video had been edited to chop out the unsavory parts. It was being sold against Katsura's will, it had to be. Zura had been a mess that night. Takasugi had known the Amanto had recorded it, but the recording had already been taken care of.

Or so Takasugi had though. To see it pop back up, years later?

Katsura wouldn't ask for that.

With his mouth a thin line, Takasugi glanced back to Zura, a small smile crooking the corner his lips. “My apologies.” He said evenly. He ever so slightly nodded his head in Nakamura's direction. “I was unaware of the situation.”

“No, no! No need to apologize!” Nakamura exclaimed, standing up from his chair. “It was just a minor misunderstanding. If anything, I am glad that Zura has someone so protective over him! To think you came all the way back here! And don't get me wrong, of course I wanted to put this to rest as soon as possible! You are, well… I hope there is no longer an issue between us!”

Katsura was staring at him wide-eyed. Zura knew. His lip was twitching at the corner in the way it did when he wasn't sure if he found something morbidly funny or absolutely horrifying. He knew what was going to happen. He knew Takasugi was going to find out _exactly_ what was going on here, and Zura wasn't making any comment to stop him. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and Zura wanted him to know but he wasn't saying anything about it.

Takasugi decided to ask the question.

“Zura.” Takasugi's voice was deceivingly pleasant for once. “What did he do to you?”

Katsura's eyes widened just as Nakamura glanced over at him. Katsura's mouth twitched again, eyelashes fluttering before he stuttered out a breath. He glanced back down, jaw locked shut.

“I'm sorry?” Nakamura asked, his tone still annoyingly positive. “I haven't done anything to him, if I may defend myself. He has come to me to help fund the Joui. I have only-”

_And what do you have to do with the Joui?_

His lilting voice was rather annoying. Takasugi ignored him. “Zura. What did he _do to you._ ”

Katsura's face was going pale, eyes still locked on the floor. He didn't say anything still, his expression obviously telling Takasugi that something had happened. Something severe, judging by his face, something cruel, judging by the way his hands were clutching the armrest, bones popping up beneath translucent skin.

“I literally just said I didn't do anything.” Nakamura said, sounding a touch annoyed. Good. “Takasugi, if you wish to discuss Zura's bedroom habits and partner choices, then please, discuss it outside of my office. I am technically his boss, after all.”

Takasugi strode forward, two steps, leaning slowly against the desk with one hand. His mouth quirked into a smile at the corner, eye wide. “You're his boss?”

“I am.” Nakamura said, his voice still confident and unaware of the danger behind that question. He grinned. “Now please, because you seem so concerned, and don't worry, I understand! If it's not unprofessional of me, perhaps we should discuss Zura’s rather poor choices lately. He's been rather… all over the place. I fear he's not in a good place emotionally. He could really use a friend. Especially after what _Gintoki_ did.”

Takasugi stared at Nakamura, the words not quite meaning anything yet. _What Gintoki did?_

“You see,” Nakamura said, his voice going gentle. He gestured vaguely towards Katsura. “Gintoki hasn't been very… _supportive_ lately. If you get my drift. Zura, do you want to tell him or should I?”

Katsura wasn't looking at either of them, leaning back against the chair like he wasn't even part of this discussion. Like he wanted to close his eyes and have a nap. Unprofessional. Katsura had been nothing but rigid ever since the day Takasugi had met him, and the slack posture was making Takasugi's fingers twitch. Ever since he'd seen those videos, since landing on Earth, everything had been suspiciously _wrong._

“No.” Katsura said, his voice flat and emotionless.

Takasugi stood up straight with his eye locked on Katsura. Ever so slowly, he moved around the desk to come to Nakamura’s side, his eye still locked on Katsura’s posture and broken skin... If Gintoki laid a hand on him...

He moved close to Zura, spinning the chair so Takasugi could see him, a hand reaching out for his face. His fingers lightly touched skin, ghosting over an ugly bruise on Katsura's cheek. Katsura tensed, eyes closing, but he didn’t flinch away. Takasugi didn't say anything yet, eyes narrowed because this whole situation was _suspicious._ There was a bite on the underside of Katsura's jaw, raw and angry and suspiciously fresh. “What did he do?”

Zura didn't say anything, eyes still closed.

“He's hurting him, obviously.” Nakamura said gently. Like they were friends and he cared. “I keep telling Zura he has the power to make Gintoki stop, but good grief. That man is head over heels and simply won’t listen to me. It’s like every time I see Zura these days, he’s sporting a new bruise.”

Katsura finally opened his eyes, glancing up, suddenly holding Takasugi’s gaze.

Takasugi knelt to one knee, disappearing from Nakamura's view, lowering himself before Katsura with his hand still on his face. He asked again, directly at Zura, because he didn’t give a shit what Nakamura had to say about the situation, he wanted to hear if from _Zura_. “What. Did. He do?”

More like a breath than a whisper, Zura finally spoke. “He's blackmailing me.”

Takasugi ever so gently inclined his head towards Nakamura, and Zura ever so slightly nodded. His expression changed then, eyebrows drawing and mouth pulling thin. He was going to cry.

“Is that so?” Takasugi asked, voice deceivingly gentle. He didn't get the story, didn't get the details, but he didn't need them. He was starting to see what was happening here. Katsura's video, masked to look like pleasure. So Gintoki's? Was it the same story? Gintoki was friends with the Vice Chief, the man waiting to take Zura to safety. Zura was obviously in danger in here, obviously unable to do anything about it, and this man was trying to convince Takasugi that _Gintoki_ was intentionally hurting Katsura. Completely unlikely, Gintoki intentionally raising a hand to _any_ of them, the man who knew he had no right to hurt anyone. The man who knew he had no right to even walk the Earth without suffering. But if Takasugi had been a little younger, a less in control, he might have taken the bait.

_Nakamura knows how to play his cards._

Unfortunate.

“This started up a few weeks ago.” Nakamura said, his voice irritatingly confident. “Gintoki's been relying on him financially from what I’ve understood. A real greedy bastard, that one. Now I've known Gintoki for a while, and he's been slowly just getting worse and worse. The first time Zura showed up with a split lip, I told him-”

Nakamura continued speaking, but Takasugi wasn't even listening. He stood, gently pushing Katsura's chair out of the way, glancing towards Nakamura in his desk chair. His eye suddenly fell on the wooden sword leaning against the desk, tucked just out of view. _Lake Toya_ was scrawled across the handle, the blade itself worn and lovingly used.

Takasugi wasn’t stupid. Katsura looked like a cornered animal. He had someone waiting outside for him, someone who had been waiting two hours him to come out. Gintoki had one of his kids’ abducted, wasn’t even living at home according to Matako. Both of them had videos for sale, one of them a lie, if not both. Then there had been Mutsu’s warning. Hijikata's fury.

_So what did he edit out of Gintoki’s?_

Takasugi wasn’t the kind of man who needed details. Takasugi didn’t need the full shitty story in order to make a decision. He didn't really need more than a dirty look or in this case, a very annoying voice, to cut someone. Seeing Katsura beat like this had been enough. However Gintoki was involved, that would just be the cherry on top.

Takasugi’s heart fluttered, vision going red, the precursor to destruction. He had his blade out in the next second, cold steel kissing the inside of Nakamura's neck. “Shut up.” Takasugi said, watching the way Nakamura's eyes suddenly widened when he realized there was a blade at his throat, cutting just enough to split skin. His dark gaze suddenly turned to Zura, mouth opening like he was going to speak _again._ He had yet to stop, and Takasugi wondered how long Katsura had been putting up with this. Gintoki too?

Takasugi interrupted him before he could speak again. “Shut _up._ ” He snapped, blade piercing skin. “What did you do to him?”

Nakamura narrowed his eyes, looking all too casual in that chair for Takasugi's liking. “You want the details?” Nakamura asked. “Fine. Like I just said, _I_ didn't do anything. Gintoki is the one who has been beating him. Raping him. You war dogs are so quick to bite when you don’t even know if the hand means to hurt or feed. Because Zura _clearly_ isn’t going to say anything, I guess I’ll have to just tell you.”

The demon howled inside Takasugi's ears, the rage boiling over. He pressed the blade harder, more blood running down Nakamura’s neck. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, a little smile quirking his lips. “Do not _lie_ to me.”

“He doesn’t deserve to die.” Katsura said quickly from behind him. The hairs on Takasugi’s arms stood, his eye widening. That hadn’t been a plea to save a man’s life.

Takasugi suddenly withdrew his blade, the steel whistling through the air. Nakamura sighed in relief, had just enough time to put a hand to the blood on his throat before Takasugi moved. With his foot, Takasugi slammed the heel of his boot into Nakamura's chest, sending the office chair skirting back several feet. Slowly, Takasugi stalked closer, sheathing his blade just in time to grab Gintoki's bokken from where it was leaning against the desk. “I asked you a simple question, Nakamura.”

“And I am telling you, it's Gintoki. He's out of control lately. What did Zura just tell you? It's not me.” Nakamura said, hands in the air in mock surrender. He was talking a little faster. “I'm just the guy who sells the videos-”

Takasugi whipped the wooden blade, cracking Nakamura against the knees. Nakamura squealed, jerking in the chair in pain, a long moan echoing in the small room. It was music to Takasugi's ears.

“If you hit me one more time and you'll regret it!” Nakamura yelled. “You want to know what I did? You want to know what Zura here won't tell you? Well fine! Katsura and Gintoki are at stake! Do you know how much dirt I have on them? How easy it is to have them abducted and fucked senseless? At this point they _let_ me, you know. Let that sink in! I could tell them both to get in a dog kennel and have them shipped into space on a slave ship. You'll never find them and you’ll be ruining their lives! Maybe I’ll have to kill you, after picking off your entire crew and forcing you to do as I demand! Wouldn’t you like that? The scariest of the Joui four, crawling on his hands and knees just like Zura and Gintoki are right now!”

“Are you done?” Takasugi asked, his voice even.

“No! You need to understand Takasugi, that you don't really have any good moves to make here.” Nakamura snapped. “I've already taken Gintoki's kids once! I can do it again and have them sold into slavery! It's not hard. And Gintoki himself? I've had him several times already, Zura too. Don't make me demonstrate Zura's obedience. He'll bend over the table for me if I simply ask at this point. And you? You're going to back off and put that sword down because you have precious things too that I can take, besides Zura, of course. Like your little blonde girl, she should have been jailed and executed for her crimes, shouldn't she? It's not too late for that you know, and of course, that’s after she’s taken and molested. You sent her out to watch Gintoki's house, but the joke is on you, _I'm_ watching Gintoki's house too. She can be taken at any second and I _will_ send you the videos! For free this time! You both think I'm stupid enough to invite Joui patriots into my office and not have a live stream so my guards know exactly when to come in? It doesn't matter-”

“Holy fuck. Shut up.” Takasugi said before he lunged forward, the bokken cracking in the same spot, shattering already broken kneecaps.

Nakamura screamed, just as Takasugi grabbed him by the front of the shirt and hauled him out of the chair. He tossed the man to the ground, maybe grinning wide when Nakamura squealed upon impact. His glasses had fallen from his face, tears from pain streaking his cheeks as he struggled to get his hands underneath him. “You're condemning yourself!” Nakamura yelled, trying to catch his breath between moans. “I'll have you in no time too!”

“Zura. _Explain_.” Takasugi said. He’d had enough of this man already.

Katsura's voice was pathetically shaky. It only fueled Takasugi's rage more. “He's using Gintoki against me. If I do as he says, he won't hurt anyone.” Katsura said quickly. “Except… he _is…_ I _do…_ I…”

Takasugi didn't need to hear any more. He didn't really need an excuse to beat a man while he was down on a good day, and Katsura wasn't stopping him. Wasn’t pleading the man’s case. Had told him he didn't deserve to die. This all told Takasugi enough.

This man deserved to beg. Beg for death.

Takasugi cracked Nakamura over the back with the bokken, blood spurting from the force of the blow. He kicked him in the ribs, sending him over onto his side. “Did you touch them? Both of them?”

“You'll regret this! I know where you landed your ship too, you think the Bakufu won’t find it? Something that big? You want to try to help them or be taken out of the picture? Because I can-”

Takasugi’s foot collided with Nakamura’s mouth, effectively shutting him up for a second. Hot fury was coursing through Takasugi’s veins, murder at the forefront of his mind, the demon screaming in the background. But he was still asking questions, still trying to piece together this increasingly horrifying story. _He has a big mouth._ If Nakamura was going to tell him what he did, then Takasugi would just have to punish him accordingly.

“ _Zura._ ” He snapped, his low voice taking on a deep growl. “Your friend is outside. _Go_.”

His eye was locked on Nakamura squirming on the ground. With a shaking hand, he fished out his phone from one of his inside pockets intent to get Bansai down there, finally taking a glance at the influx of text messages Sakamoto had sent him. Takasugi hadn’t bothered to read them earlier because he had no need.

Now, scrolling through a few, those messages were painting a clearer picture, distracting him from his original goal. Perhaps Takasugi should have just cut this man down the second he had walked in. The fucker was still talking, still threatening him, still trying to get up. Takasugi was going to cut out his tongue. Eventually.

Behind him, Katsura hadn’t moved.

Takasugi glanced over his shoulder, texting Bansai forgotten. Nakamura noisily whimpered from the floor, spewing out more words, never-ending in his threats and excuses. “I said _go_.” Katsura didn’t need to see this, had never been able to stomach raw violence like this, and even if Katsura wanted to watch, Takasugi wouldn't let him.

“I can’t.” Katsura whispered. He was shaking in the chair, Takasugi noting now that he was completely boneless. He was in the chair because he couldn't stand. Nakamura had brought Katsura here to try and use him against Takasugi.

A shiver passed through Takasugi, rage, white-hot fury that was going to crack most of Nakamura's bones in a few minutes. There were two-hundred and six options.

“I can’t move.”

Takasugi turned back to Nakamura, stabbed the bokken through Nakamura’s right hand before turning away. Ignoring the cries, Takasugi stalked closer to Katsura, his hand snapping at Zura a little too fast, a little too aggressive, a little too pissed. Katsura flinched from him, but Taksugi took his arm anyway and threw it over his shoulder. It wasn’t like Nakamura was going anywhere with shattered knees. Let the man breathe for a moment, because Takasugi wasn’t done with him. Let the man think he could use Gintoki's sword to defend himself.

Ha.

Pulling Katsura gingerly up from the chair, most of Zura's weight leaning on him, Takasugi realized just how light he was. Katsura was struggling to stand, clinging to Takasugi with all of his remaining strength.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Takasugi snapped, suddenly stooping low to throw an arm behind Katsura’s knees, picking him up bridal style like he weighed nothing. Katsura tried to hold back a moan, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, jaw clenching in pain as he pressed his forehead to Takasugi's shoulder.

“Did he fuck Gintoki too?” Takasugi asked, carrying Katsura across the room. He kicked the office door open, letting the handle smash into the wall behind it.

Katsura made a light affirmative noise, seemingly relaxing in Takasugi’s arms the further away from the office they got. Zura turned his face into Takasugi’s neck, his cheeks damp. “He blamed it all on me, it was all or nothing, I couldn’t do anything from the beginning-”

“Shush.” Takasugi snapped, kicking the back door open too, emerging into the alley. “Shut up.”

Katsura’s explanation came out in a rushed sob anyway. “No, you don’t understand, you need to know what lengths he went to just to control me. He raped Gintoki just to make me follow his orders, he was kidnapping the kids- this has been happening for weeks, he’s been hitting me for days, you can’t let him walk. Don’t let him walk, we have nothing to use against him. There’s nothing else, I’ve tried to get rid of him but it failed, even the police are trying to help but he’s blackmailing them too and-”

“He won’t walk.” Takasugi huffed, pausing at the end of the alley to carefully drop Katsura down to his feet. He didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his friend. It was the least he could do, as long as Katsura could walk.

They hobbled out of the alley together, Katsura still stringing together the fastest explanation Takasugi had ever heard. And it was also the worst explanation he had ever heard. It fueled the beast inside of him worse than Gintoki had on that damned hill. Takasugi wasn't sure he had ever been this angry. Nakamura's mistake had been leaking the photos, and that move was going to cost him the whole fucking game.

From the car, Hijikata got out and rushed towards them.

“Zura, what the fuck is with the police officer anyway?”

“Hijikata’s really nice.” Katsura sobbed, hand covering half of his face. His tone was light, almost hysterical. “He's a nice guy.”

Takasugi rolled his eye because Katsura said that about _everyone._

“Damn right I am.” Hijikata huffed as he approached closer. His eyes were locked on Takasugi suspiciously, but they melted into concern once he glanced to Katsura. The police officer reached a hand for Zura, and Zura reached a hand for him, suddenly breaking out into sobs.

Takasugi wasn’t irked or anything by how comfortable they were with each other. He let Zura go anyway, more rage and fury building up inside of him, pushing Katsura into Hijikata. He kept a hand on his back even after Hijikata had most of Katsura’s weight in his arms, both of them supporting the sagging Joui leader.

“Remember. This is the only time I’m turning a blind eye to you.” Hijikata said neutrally, taking one look at the expression on Takasugi's face and completely understanding his rage. “This is the only time I will ever encourage you to rip a man apart.”

Takasugi laughed. He turned, his blind side facing Hijikata. “Don’t come back here until the complaint is called in, then.”

Hijikata didn’t answer. Takasugi turned away, stalking back the way he had come like a demon in the night. He raised his hand, two fingers waving, gesturing for Bansai to come down. They were going to take care of it. Nakamura seemed pretty keen on giving him the full story and making excuses. Takasugi was sure the man would dig his own grave. This was for Zura. _And in the future, maybe I'll admit it's for Gintoki too._

Back in the car, Hijikata bent to help Katsura into the passenger seat, both arms slung underneath Zura's. He looked worse than when he had gone in, again, and judging by the fact that Takasugi had to help him out, Hijikata already guessed what had happened. It looked worse than ever before. Katsura was still clinging to him, face pressed into Hijikata's shoulder, arms locked around him to keep him close.

“Hospital?”

Katsura groaned because he didn't want to go, but he was nodding. Hijikata took a deep breath, pulling Katsura close for a second, letting him soak up his warmth. When Katsura finally sighed, arms slackening, Hijikata untangled himself from Katsura's grasps. He stood up, glanced back out to Takasugi’s disappearing form as he closed the passenger side door.

He _almost_ felt bad for Nakamura. He could only imagine what Takasugi would do to him.

“Can we bring Gintoki?” Katsura asked quietly once Hijikata was in the driver's seat. He was crying again, a hand over his face, but he was smiling. “I have good news.”

“Sure.” Hijikata said. He was still watching, even though Takasugi was long gone from view. From across the street, a second man emerged from the darkness, disappearing into Nakamura's alley.

Hijikata got the feeling he wouldn't hear about Nakamura ever again.


	20. Bad Endings Are Better Than No Endings, Right?

“You need to stop.” Hijikata said sternly, somehow managing to support most of Katsura's weight while said man was squirming. They were halfway through the hospital parking lot, Katsura making more of a fuss the closer they got to those ominous sliding doors. He was digging in his heels into the snow now, trying to stop their progression. “Stop. Just calm down.”

“I don't want to go, I don't want to go.” Katsura complained. His hands were fisted into Hijikata's jacket, his shivering downright concerning. “Can't we go back to the Shimura's? It'll be okay, I'll be okay. Nakamura's done for, Takasugi knows, it'll be fine, I don't need to go.”

Hijikata stopped dead in the snow, spinning Katsura so that he was leaning against a nearby car. Katsura swayed. Moaned when he was pressed back. Facing him, Hijikata used his sternest tone. “Gintoki will kick my ass and then yours if we go back. No. You made me a deal, remember? If you don't make a fuss, we can be in and out in no time. I won't leave you in there this time.”

“ _Please?_ ”

Maybe it was the never-ending tears streaking down his face, or just how broken that one word sounded, but Hijikata felt himself relenting. Katsura was putting up more of a fight than last time, all of his remaining strength going into avoiding this one scene. _Don't give in! He needs medical attention!_ _He can't even walk straight!_

“You said we could go get Gintoki.” Katsura sobbed, fingers still clenched in the front of Hijikata's uniform. “What happened to that? And you don't need to honor your end of the deal because I was going to see Nakamura regardless. You and Gintoki both know you wouldn't have been able to keep me there and really, I agreed to let you come, so you held up your end to Gintoki. You don't have to hold up yours to me.”

Hijikata grumbled. “Gintoki-”

“It will be fine. He'll understand. If this was him, he wouldn't want to go either unless he _had_ to.” Katsura said. “I don't have to go. It'll be fine. We can leave.”

 _Don't_ _give in_ _-_ Hijikata narrowed his eyes, resolve wavering. Katsura _really_ didn't want to go, and Hijikata suspected he knew why. It was the way he was walking, the way he was cracking jokes, trying to play it all off. _Gintoki is going to lose his shit…_

Clicking his tongue, Hijikata slung Katsura's arm back over his shoulder. Pulling Katsura up, he moved them away from the car. Katsura opened his mouth, starting to say something in a light tone, perhaps a thanks, before he realized which direction they were heading.

“Hijikata-”

“You're going. End of story.” Hijikata said, half dragging him. Katsura's squirming started up again, and by the time they made it to the sidewalk, Katsura was downright refusing to cooperate at all. He was trying to sink all of his weight on Hijikata but it was futile.

Lucky for Hijikata, Katsura was underweight. So Hijikata bent and scooped him up behind the knees like he weighed nothing at all and carried him the rest of the way to the door.

“Put me down!” Katsura said, his voice completely different now, still trying to squirm out of Hijikata's arms. “Put me down right now! The only knight in shining armor in this series is Gintoki, now stop!”

“If you keep squirming and I drop you and you break something, you're going to have to go in there anyway.” Hijikata huffed, nearing the sliding doors. “Would you rather me carry you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes? Because of the way this is going, I will. Either that or I trip you and go get a wheelchair.”

“Do you have any sensitivity?” Katsura asked. He was done with the moping tone and even the tears, had clearly just been trying to get what he wanted. “What about my pride?”

“What about it?” Hijikata said. His tone went softer after. “You're going to be fine. I'm right here. If you cared about your pride, you would stop making such a fuss and go quietly.”

“You're being insensitive. Is that how you got your title as the demon?” Katsura asked. “Clearly I'm okay if we're even having this conversation, so I don't see why we have to go.”

Through the sliding doors, Hijikata walked into the entrance. “Or, you're trying to use banter to get out of this for whatever reason.” But he set Katsura down before they entered through the second set of doors, throwing his arm back over his shoulder and supporting Katsura's weight. They moved into the lobby, Katsura walking to the best of his abilities now. “Would you believe me if I said I cared about your well-being?”

Katsura huffed, but he didn't comment as they moved up to the front desk. He remained silent as Hijikata explained the situation, and he clung tightly to Hijikata's jacket, as he was quickly moved into a room.

In the room, Hijikata expected a repeat of last time. Katsura was nervous again, clutching his jacket like a lifeline. Was a little hard to maneuver, and very avoidant of the bustling nurse.

“The doctor will be right in.” The nurse said, rushing out of the room the second the words were out of her mouth. She didn't spare either of them a glance.

Katsura dropped onto the bed with a quiet groan, his hands still tangled in Hijikata's jacket. He was shivering still, eyes cast away. He looked more nervous than last time possibly.

“I'm not going to have to manhandle you into the wall again, am I?” Hijikata asked, his hands settling over Katsura's. He didn't pry him off yet.

“Hopefully not.” Katsura said, head resting against Hijikata's chest. He sighed, trying to breathe out his anxiety, eyes closing. “Listen we can still leave-”

The doctor entered the room at that moment, the same doctor that had treated Katsura last time and Gintoki before that. He greeted them cheerily. Took one look at Zura and verbally hoped Katsura wasn't back with the same problem he had been in for last time.

Hijikata didn't have to manhandle Katsura into the wall this time and a nurse didn't have to sedate him. They quickly found out the reason behind Katsura's lack of mobility, aside from the rape. It was due to four bloody lashes streaking across his lower back, one of them nipping a muscle just right, preventing him from putting up any fight Hijikata himself couldn't subdue.

 

–

 

Gintoki jerked awake to the sound of the front door opening. Confused for a moment he panicked, shoving himself up from the couch with a surprised gasp, not quite sure where he was or what was happening. His first thought was that he was back on Nakamura's couch, drugged and vulnerable.

Within seconds he was sitting, breathing easily because he recognized Otae's living room, recognized Mutsu glancing back to him from the entrance hallway with an odd look, and recognized Hijikata on his way into the house. Leaning back casually like nothing was amiss, Gintoki yawned. It was still dark, the glow of the TV haunting. If Hijikata was back so soon, then things must have gone well.

Until he realized Hijikata was alone, looking significantly less alive than when he had left. “Where's Zura?”

“Hospital.” Hijikata said. His tone was forced, his gaze impassive. “Let's go.”

Gintoki didn't question it. On second thought, that didn't sound good. Pushing himself up from the couch, he paused for a second, glancing over his shoulder toward the hallway. Otae and the kids…

“They'll be okay with me.” Mutsu said from behind him, reassuring him. She offered him a smile. “Sakamoto should be back by morning, too.”

“Nakamura isn't a problem anymore, either.” Hijikata said. And he sounded so damn sure.

Gintoki went with him, the officer dead silent until Gintoki had his shoes on and an extra layer and they were in the car. The radio informed Gintoki that it was just past three in the morning, and it wasn't until they were ten minutes into the drive that Gintoki started to worry. Hijikata had yet to say anything, had yet to relax his face.

“Is he okay?”

Hijikata sighed. “He's a strong guy, I'll give him that.”

That sounded bad. Gintoki clicked his teeth shut, and he didn't ask again. He would find out soon enough.

The hospital unnerved him. Gintoki could list a hundred reasons why he hated hospitals. The double sliding doors felt entrapping as him and Hijikata moved in, the people waiting in the lobby sickly or hypochondriacs. The smell hit him next, that disgusting _clean_ smell, the smell of hidden trauma and horror. The floor was blinding white, the walls just as bleak as he trailed after Hijikata, keeping close in case someone wanted to keep him there for any reason.

Katsura's room was at the back of the hall. It was silent when they entered, the door creeping open, dark too. Nothing but a lamp lit over in Katsura's corner of the room, hidden behind a curtain. Hijikata strode in quietly, Gintoki right on his heels after leaving the door open only an inch. As long as they remained quiet and Katsura didn't object, they could come and go as they pleased.

Katsura was drowning in the blankets, the whitewashing out his face. He was lying on his side facing them, awake and clearly dejected. His eyes flickered up to Gintoki, a little hazy but coherent enough. It didn't look good, but it could have been worse. It always could have been worse.

Gintoki sat down in the closest chair, reaching out for his hand. “You look like shit.”

“I don't look like shit, I'm Katsura.” Katsura took his hand, squeezing. When he glanced up, he was smiling.

Gintoki snorted, squeezing back. “And Nakamura?”

“He tried to hustle the wrong Joui.” Katsura said. He chuckled then, eyes closing.

 _Takasugi._ Gintoki raised his eyebrows, glancing over to Hijikata with a small smile. If Takasugi had already made his appearance, it was possible Nakamura was gone and done for. The idea made Gintoki feel lighter, to know Nakamura might not even be on Earth, might not even be alive still. But at the same time, Gintoki felt weak because he hadn't been able to deal with the problem himself. _What if he tries to blackmail that guy? What if that half percent comes through, and Nakamura succeeds?_

Hijikata settled into the chair at the foot of the bed, sinking into the cushion with a heavy sigh. He looked just as tired as Katsura.

“Can officially say Takasugi knocking on my car window was the scariest shit I've ever had happen to me.” Hijikata said, suddenly sliding down in the chair so he could rest his head against the back. That painted a picture. Gintoki laughed. “Can also confirm that Nakamura is no longer going to be a problem.”

“Good.” Gintoki said, turning back to Katsura when his hand went limp in Gintoki's own. Katsura was sleeping, breath even. Gintoki rolled his eyes but didn't take his hand back.

“How long has this guy been awake?” Gintoki asked, thumb brushing over frail skin. He was looking Katsura over, looking the wires over. He was getting fluids again, and there was tape on the inside of his elbow from something else.

“Hasn't slept at all.” Hijikata said, glancing Katsura's way. “I'm sorry I woke you up, but he was pestering me. And I have recently discovered that he's pretty good at getting his own way.”

Gintoki snorted, humor disappearing. _If Hijikata left him here without fear of Zura escaping, then it must be bad._ Gintoki didn't ask.

“I'm sure the both of you could use some rest now that this is over.”

“It's over?” Gintoki asked, his voice a little airy. It didn't really feel over. He felt… empty. Like it had been too easy, suspiciously easy. Like letting Takasugi deal with the problem had been the coward's way out. He felt lesser. Hadn't even been there to see it happen, to get closure. Had been pacing around, keeping an eye on his kids instead of helping incriminate Nakamura, instead of protecting Zura. Leaving the mess to Takasugi of all people. How much did Takasugi hate him _now_? How much did Takasugi even know about the situation? That guy didn't need much evidence to cut a man down. He could have walked in, saw Zura's face, and then beat Nakamura for all Gintoki knew.

“Yo. If you need to sleep too, then have a nap.” Hijikata called, snapping Gintoki out of his thoughts. “I feel like I'm talking to a wall.”

Gintoki hummed, glancing Hijikata's way. “You're sure Nakamura is gone?”

“I'm sure.” Hijikata said. “Zura didn't tell me anything when he came out, but Takasugi's face was pretty scary looking.”

“Takasugi's face is always scary looking.” Gintoki murmured, attention back to Katsura. Having a nap actually sounded like a good idea. “What do we do now?”

Hijikata sighed extra dramatically, sitting up. He fixed Gintoki with a stern look, his face completely serious. “Now, you two heal.”

Gintoki stared at him for a moment, before taking his hand back from Katsura. He shoved his pinky into his nose, fixing Hijikata with his best dead-eyed stare. “Sounds cliché.”

Hijikata rolled his eyes. “It is. You're both going to be fucked up for a little while, but you'll both be okay. I'll be imposing on both of you.”

“Imposing?” Gintoki asked, pulling out his pinky and inspecting it. “You're willing to put in that much effort?”

“Of course.” Hijikata said. “And of course, I'll still be investigating the bombings, but that should all die down in a while. And if your really chatty friend comes through, I shouldn't be searching for leads for too long.”

Sakamoto. Gintoki wondered what Sakamoto could dig up faster than Hijikata. But then again, Sakamoto had his _ways_. Gintoki wiped his hand off on his pants, standing up. He kicked off his boots. “We don't need you to impose, we'll be fine.” Gintoki said, leaning over the bed and grabbing the edges of blankets Katsura was wrapped up in. He fixed them until Katsura was nothing more than a burrito, gently sliding him over in the bed, wires and tubes out of the way. He was still passed out, not even stirring as Gintoki moved him.

“You're both too stubborn for your own good.” Hijikata said, watching Gintoki gracefully fit himself in the bed beside Katsura. “Zura told me he was fine, that he didn't need to come here. And you can't do that, the nurse will kick you out.”

“Well Zura is an idiot and the nurse doesn't know who she's dealing with yet.” Gintoki said affectionately, getting himself comfortable while making sure there was enough space between him and Katsura in case anything became tangled. “You're an idiot too.”

Hijikata rolled his eyes. He checked his phone for the sake of checking his phone, Yamazaki back at the barracks, Sougo doing whatever the hell Sougo was doing. Kondou _finally_ sent him a message back, informing him he'd be returning to the barracks in a couple of days. _Where did that guy even go!_ By the time Hijikata glanced back up, Gintoki was passed out too.

They were both idiots. Stubborn as Hell too. Hijikata clicked his tongue, wondering just how much of a mess they were going to be now that Nakamura was out of the picture. Wondering how long Hijikata would get away with helping them before they both pushed him away.

And if the nurse found all three of them passed out in the morning, she didn't wake any of them up or bother to move Hijikata's head to save him from the worst neck cramp of his life.

 

–

 

They let Katsura go late the next morning for a variety of reasons. One, because Hijikata signed the papers the doctor presented him with (the number one and most important reason, Hijikata reminded them). Two, because Katsura had turned on those damn puppy-dog eyes, had chalked Gintoki up to being his mental stability and his greatest cure, and had promised that Hijikata knew when to bring him back. Three, Gintoki got himself a free pack of pudding (a six pack, the idiot came back with a six pack of pudding from somewhere at eight in the morning) which wasn't the problem. He had flustered too many nurses on his way back to the room but had somehow gotten Katsura to eat three of the vanilla cups when no one else could convince the rebel to ingest anything else. Confident but warning them of possible complications, the doctor had released him.

By one in the afternoon, they were back at the Shimura's. Outside, Hijikata got out of the car first. He stood up, took in a deep breath of the crisp afternoon air, and then rounded the car to help Katsura out of the passenger seat. When he popped the door open, Gintoki was whining in the back about child locks and 'this isn't kinky, officer'.

“It's not that bad, it's fine.” Katsura said, eyes closed as he tried to stand. He got his feet out, but the stitches on his back were hurting, Hijikata could tell. That had been the doctor's greatest concern, but given Katsura's ill career choices, Katsura's argument that he knew how to take care of a wound like this had been very convincing.

Hijikata scoffed, helping him up anyway.

Once the passenger side door was shut and Katsura was leaning against the car catching his breath, Hijikata paused, turning a serious look on Katsura. “You're going to tell him?” About the extra wounds, about what Nakamura got to do one last time, about what Takasugi did. Hijikata didn't need to know the details, but for Katsura's mental stability, someone should know.

“Eventually.”

Hijikata hummed and let Gintoki out of the back seat.

Entering the front gate, Sakamoto could be heard from inside, cackling hysterically. The second they were in the doorway of the house, everyone was on them in a moment, crowded into the narrow hall before Hijikata could even think about kicking off his shoes.

“Gin-san!”

“Gin-chan! Zura, you're all banged up! Mayora, I'll have your eyes for this!”

“Ahahaha! Welcome back!”

Gintoki deftly stepped in front of Katsura as Kagura threw herself at him, catching her jump-hug so she couldn't take Katsura down. Gintoki squeezed her, lifting her up off the floor despite a small flare of pain in his hips.

“Whoa! You totally missed me!” Kagura yelled with a laugh, her hug crushing Gintoki's neck.

Hijikata flanked Katsura, keeping Shinpachi at bay, a hundred and seven questions leaving the kid's mouth in the span of thirty seconds. Shinpachi seemed to realize Katsura was injured, so he didn't get too pushy.

Even Sakamoto was getting all up close and personal, crowding Hijikata's space all of a sudden to inspect both of his friends. He had a hand on Hijikata's arm, and Hijikata was pretty unsure about how that made him feel.

“Haha, you both look pretty rough!”

“Calm down, calm down.” Tae said, smiling in the doorway. She was wearing an apron, a spatula in her hand. She was smiling pleasantly enough, but Hijikata felt anticipation wash over him, the anticipation that horror was about to follow. “You guys are just in time for lunch.”

Oh dear lord. “We actually just ate.” Hijikata said. “Thank you, though.”

“Yeah.” Katsura agreed, going pale.

“We're going home, actually. Otae, I'm going to get this pack of idiots out of your house.” Gintoki said, Kagura perking up at those words and Sadaharu appearing out of seemingly nowhere, head popping into the doorway. Even Hijikata turned his way, a little confused by the sudden decision. Sakamoto only laughed.

“It was no problem.” Otae said, smiling. “Thank you, for helping out Shinpachi.” The way she held her spatula suddenly suggested that what had happened to Shinpachi better not happen again.

“We're going home?” Kagura asked, kicking her legs to be put down. Gintoki obliged.

“Arf?”

“Yeah.” Gintoki said, smiling. “Gonna sleep on my own couch.”

Sakamoto nudged Hijikata with his elbow suddenly, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close. He laughed, Hijikata looking beyond uncomfortable. “We should exchange phone numbers!”

“No!”

“Is it over?” Shinpachi asked, his eyes wide. Even Kagura was staring at Gintoki in curiosity, both of them looking up at him like puppies. “Whatever was going on, is it over?”

These kids. Growing up so fast. It was amazing how much they could pick up. Once again, Gintoki was just glad neither of them had been hurt, had been dragged into this any further than they had. His chest was warm.

Gintoki considered the question, hoping he was telling the truth. “Yeah. Now Kagura, go grab your stuff. We're going home.”

 

–

 

“You know,” Gintoki said, moving into his entrance way but not kicking off his boots yet, “the whole point of the last scene change was to cut back on the characters in this chapter.”

Laughing hysterically, Sakamoto kicked off his sandals, strolling right into Gintoki's house while Sadaharu went barreling through the entrance hall. “But the character count was cut down! The Shimura's stayed home!”

“There's too many men in this house now!” Kagura complained, throwing down her backpack and trailing after Sadaharu. She threw open all the doors as she went, checking for burglars and stalkers and monsters.

“Too many idiots.” Mutsu rolled her eyes with a fond smile, following the group in. She pushed Sakamoto out of the way, trying to get out of the crowded entrance hall as fast as she could.

“He has a point.” Katsura said, slowly kicking off his own shoes. He looked worse than when he left the hospital, but Gintoki knew it would only get worse before it got better. He kept a hand to the wall, walking slowly. Sakamoto was at his side in a moment, hands gently out for his arm and shoulder, always touching. At least Sakamoto could be gentle when he wanted to be. His movements might have been faster than an angry squirrel, but he was sensitive to the finger details.

Bedside Gintoki, Hijikata huffed.

“This is called a plot error.” Sakamoto laughed, glancing over his shoulder once he had his arm looped through Katsura's. “Looks like you're stuck with all of us! Haha! I finally get more screen time!”

“You're the most useless person here.” Katsura said. “Plot wise. You're the plot error.”

“That! That was really harsh!” Sakamoto complained, he moved his free hand like he was going to smack Katsura over the shoulder, Katsura cringing in advance. Sakamoto only started laughing. “I'm here to lift your spirits and stall before the self-destruction arc! Because I need to go back into space! The bank account is counting on it!”  
“What did you just say?” Mutsu asked, appearing in the doorway.

“There better be no more arcs any time soon.” Hijikata said, still standing at Gintoki's side. He glanced to Gintoki, fiddling with a cigarette. It was in a nervous way, rolling the cigarette between his fingers. “I... need to get back to the barracks. I'm on duty still, you know.” He didn't really sound like he wanted to leave. “Kondou's on his way back and I need to make sure everything is somewhat in order.”

“I know.” Gintoki said, still not making a move to take off his boots. He turned back towards the front door, ignoring the hollering coming from inside his house. “You've done your part for now.”

Hijikata smiled. “I know. I'll stop by later. I'll keep an ear out for anything Nakamura related too, just in case. For my worries and yours.”

He followed Gintoki out of the front door onto the balcony, eyes turned to Gintoki, still fiddling with that cigarette. Gintoki tracked the motion, unaware that he had shifted closer.

“Listen, I know you're really dumb and stubborn, but if you need anything. And by anything I mean _anything,_ ” Hijikata glanced his way, but his eyes weren't quite meeting Gintoki's. They were a smidge lower, focused elsewhere.

“I know.” Gintoki said. “I'll make Zura stick around for a few days, too. He's pretty good about letting injuries heal.” _Unlike me._

“Just call if there are problems. Don't shove the kids away either.” Hijikata must have been really worried, to be talking to him like this. His fiddling picked up speed. “I'll come around as often as I can, not to pester you but, to, to just make sure.”

Gintoki licked his bottom lip. “Thanks. For everything.” He said, strolling with Hijikata to the stairs, their pace slowing as they descended like they were trying to prolong this moment. Hijikata was about to protest, but Gintoki interrupted him. It wasn't very often he was open like this. “I know Takasugi was on his way here anyway, and even if you didn't get involved… you made it easier for both of us. Especially me. Thanks.”

Hijikata huffed, and maybe his cheeks dusted red. “You're welcome.”

They descended the last set of stairs in silence, close enough that their fingers were brushing, shoulder bumping halfway down. Gintoki hesitated on the last step, pausing, his eyes on Hijikata's shoes. Hijikata stopped with him, turning Gintoki's way. When Gintoki glanced up, Hijikata's eyes were on his. They were inches apart, already so close that Gintoki could feel Hijikata's warmth right next to him.

Gintoki's heart was thrumming in his chest, a different kind of adrenaline than what Nakamura had been inducing. Hijikata didn't move, but his eyes did flicker down a smidge again, gaze on Gintoki's lips.

Gintoki leaned in for a kiss, eye half-lidded.

They almost connected.

Hijikata's hand suddenly snapped up, fingers covering Gintoki's very close lips. Their noses were brushing, Hijikata having leaned in too, but he had rejected Gintoki at the very last possible second. His eyes were on the back of his hand, his mouth open, breath heavy. Struggling, he said, “not like this.”

Gintoki was frozen solid. He didn't dare move, Hijikata's fingers still on his lips, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment so fast they were burning. Had he been wrong? Did he just make the biggest, most embarrassing mistake of his life?

“Not when you're like this.” Hijikata said, as if that explained anything, nose bumping. He swallowed, and it looked like it took everything he had to remove his hand and step away from Gintoki. He cleared his throat, his eyes still locked on Gintoki. “Gintoki, what Nakamura did-”

“That's not a problem.” Gintoki said, and damn did he ever sound desperate.

“It's too soon.” Hijikata said, and he sounded like he was pleading. He swallowed, backed away jerkily, those eyes still on Gintoki. “I'll come by. See you around, Odd Jobs.”

“See you around.” Gintoki said through the brick in his throat. He'd originally intended to go see Otose, but now, he watched as Hijikata quickly left before turning around himself to go back upstairs.

He paused at the top step, throat dry and the world spinning for a second. He took a breath, the heat in his cheeks still burning. He supposed he understood. Frustration welled in his chest again, a feeling Gintoki couldn't get out, couldn't even explain. Nakamura had taken so much from him, had pulled the chairs right out from under him. Suffocating, Gintoki took a deep breath, hand over his face, trying to calm himself before he went back inside. Nakamura had come in and destroyed everything Gintoki had picking him up. All the years he had spent building himself back up after the war, all of those support systems keeping him functional, they had been compromised.

In the house, Sakamoto was hysterically laughing in the living room. Gintoki kicked off his shoes and impassively walked in, immediately going for the couch Katsura was sprawled in. Sakmoto and Mustu were sitting across from him, Sadahaura sitting beside Katsura, staring at him intently.

“Takasugi is hella mad!” Sakamoto laughed, fingers tapping against his phone a mile a minute. Gintoki didn't envy whoever was getting _those_ messages. “Guess this Nakamura guy never stops talking? Hahaha! Well if he had read any of my messages, he wouldn't be surprised, hahaha! Why is Bansai hanging around a downer like him? Bansai should come to my ship. New plot! I want Bansai on my team! Ha ha! Ha ha!”

“Who's Nakatura?” Kagura asked, digging around in the kitchen. “Gin-chan, the fridge is empty again and there's no rice.”

With a hand to his forehead, Gintoki sighed heavily. He didn't even have _food_. “Can you take her shopping? We need a nap. Right, Zura? We need a nap. Right now.”

“I don't need a-”

“ _Zura._ We need a nap.”

Katsura scoffed, rolling his eyes, obviously playing along in the most unwilling voice Gintoki had ever heard. “Fine. We need a _nap_.”

“Haha, haha! Kagura-chii! I hear you like food!” Sakamoto laughed after being elbowed none too gently by Mutsu. Mutsu could take a hint, unlike the loud mouth and Zura.

Mutsu stood up, foot slamming into Sakamoto's knee to get the man moving. “Let's take her shopping.”

“Sometimes I think you like her more than me!”

Hollering, Kagura was out of the kitchen in an instant. Sakamoto hardly got the chance to stand up before Kagura was jumping before Gintoki on the couch, looking at him wide-eyed. If Gintoki suddenly looked emotionally unstable, she didn't comment.

“I'm gonna come back with some strawberry milk, okay? This guy hasn't paid the toll to stay in our house!” Kagura winked, giving Gintoki a thumbs up and pointing her finger directly at Sakamoto.

“Yeah.” Gintoki agreed, jumping right on board despite the impassiveness of his voice. “The toll is one strawberry milk and one pack of pickled seaweed every time you say 'haha'.”

“Yeah!” Kagura exclaimed, laughing when Sakamoto started groaning about Gintoki being a cheapskate. Mutsu shoved Sakamoto out of the room, Sakamoto's never-ending chatter filtering in from the entrance hall.

“Have a nice nap.” Kagura said a bit quieter, once Sakamoto and Mutsu were out of the room. She lunged this time, arms around Gintoki's neck in a hug.

Gintoki hugged her back, a little warm bubble popping in his chest. He managed to keep it together, hardly, Kagura pulling away. She bounded over to Katsura, arms out for him. Extra careful, she hugged him too, using next to no pressure. Katsura chuckled in her arms, hugging her back.

“I'll be back!” Kagura called, bounding over to the door. “Zura, I'll bring you back some rice crackers!”

And with that, she was gone.

“Rice crackers.” Gintoki repeated, standing up from the couch he was on, intent of hoarding the other couch all to himself. He doesn't think he's ever seen Katsura eat a rice cracker.

Falling onto the other couch, the comfy one, Gintoki sunk into the cushions, his back to Katsura. The house was finally quiet, but his thoughts were running rampant. Most o them were about the vice-chief. The silence lasted longer than he thought it would, Katsura seemingly just as tired as he was despite rejecting the idea of a nap.

“Gintoki.” Katsura said hesitantly, like he wasn't sure if he should speak.

Gintoki rolled onto his back, glancing Katsura's way. He just wanted to sleep. Now. “Yeah?”

Katsura stared at him, mouth closed long enough that Gintoki sat up. Finally, Katsura continued. He sounded tired like he didn't even care anymore. “He used your sword on me.”

Gintoki's eyes widened, mouth opening. “What?”

Katsura's expression remained dead. He didn't explain.

“Zura.” Gintoki rolled to his feet, moving around his little table before sitting on it right in front of Katsura. He leaned close, elbows on his knees, their conversation going from quiet to intimate. “What do you mean?”

Katsura shrugged, mouth a thin line. “My back… I might have problems with it once it heals.”

Permanent damage. Gintoki's eyebrows creased. “Is that it?”

Katsura shook his head.

It was too much. There was too much in Gintoki's head, too much guilt, too much pain. He slid forward off the table, on his knees. From the floor, he pulled Katsura into the gentlest hug he could, just so he could hide his face. Katsura shifted closer to make it easier, a hand slung loosely around him, a hand in Gintoki's hair.

“I don't know if you planned to get the sword back, but I think you should just order a new one.” Katsura said, a little monotone. “Takasugi also broke Nakamura's kneecaps with it after, so it's definitely covered in blood. Can only imagine what else he's using it for, it's better off forgotten. Nakamura isn't going to survive this, you can count on that.”

Katsura suddenly stopped speaking, his hand freezing in Gintoki's hair. He glanced down in shock. “Are you crying?”

Gintoki was quietly sobbing, soaking the front of Katsura's borrowed yukata. It wasn't just a couple of hidden tears, it was full-on misery.

“Why are you-?” His hands tightened around Gintoki, his hand continuing to slide through his hair comfortingly. “Don't be stupid, this isn't your fault. There was nothing we could do.”

Gintoki didn't agree or deny it, didn't move at all. Katsura resigned to just running a hand through Gintoki's hair until Gintoki stopped shuddering on his own, face drying and breath stuttering out the last of his remorse.

“Are you okay?” Katsura asked gently, pulling at Gintoki's yukata, trying to get him to stand. “Can we both fit on this couch? Do you want to lay down?”

“No.” Gintoki said, standing up, not clear as to which question he was answering. Instead of wiping his face, he just didn't look at Katsura, turning away quickly. “I'll pull out my futon.”

As they finally laid down, back to back, Katsura spoke again, quieter this time. More hesitant, like he was saying what simply needed to be said. “It doesn't feel like anything's changed yet.”

“No.” Gintoki agreed. He stared at the wall ahead of him, eyes and body tired, but mind very alert. It felt like he was going to wake up tomorrow on edge, waiting for Nakamura to come skulking around again. Waiting for the kids to be taken, waiting for someone in the shadows to try and nab him again. But really, he wondered how bad Katsura felt, how on edge he was. He'd gotten the brunt of Nakamura's rage, had been the one in close contact. Gintoki had known, and he hadn't done anything to help.

The silence drew out between them again, Gintoki's eyelids fluttering closed.

Just before he fell asleep, Katsura spoke again. “Will you be okay?”

“Will you?” Gintoki asked instead of answering. How was he supposed to answer that? He was Gintoki. He was always okay. He just locked stuff like this away into the back of his mind so it could torture him at night.

Katsura didn't answer the question, and neither did Gintoki.

The fell asleep in mutual agreement.


	21. The Clean Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update 1/2.
> 
> I made some crazy last-minute decisions so don't expect much comfort this chapter. Actually, remember that 'slow burn' tag?

“Hee hee, shhh!” Sakamoto tried to whisper when he got home, but Gintoki woke up to the sound of his voice anyway. Sakamoto's voice reminded Gintoki of a train horn in a tunnel. “Your Earth Daddy and Radical Mummy are napping!”

The loud smack that followed could have been from either Mutsu or Kagura.

“Yip!”

“Hahaha! Shhh!”

Gintoki groaned. He rolled over onto his stomach before pushing himself up onto his knees, tired eyes glancing over to Katsura lying beside him. In his sleep, Katsura had rolled over onto his stomach, lying half over a pillow, his face pressed awkwardly into the tatami mats. His forehead was tense, little lines indicating that he wasn't sleeping peacefully, hair mussed and all over the place.

He'd been moving in his sleep, then. Restless.

Without thinking, Gintoki's hand landed on Katsura's forehead, thumb smoothing over those lines until they relaxed. _I'm sorry I had to pick between you and the kids_. Guilt settled in Gintoki's stomach, the memory of pacing the Shimura's flashing through his mind. He hadn’t even gone to help take Nakamura down, hadn't even known they were at the end of the game. And if he had known? Would he have gone with Zura, or would he had stayed back to protect the kids?

Were they even at the end of the game? Or was this just another arc to the same shitty plot?

Nakamura had literally taken his life and fucked it, and Gintoki had hidden at home, patrolling the hallways like a sentinel ghost.

Katsura shifted, sighing contently. His mouth fell open, drool rolling out.

“Don't drop the milk! Hahahah!”

“Shhhh!”

Oh right, there were currently goblins in Gintoki's kitchen possibly destroying the place. With a huff and a half smile, Gintoki stood up. Uncoordinated, he ambled over to his bedroom door with a hand scratching his belly, sliding it open quietly as he took in the mess called his living room.

There were grocery bags everywhere. Gintoki didn't think he'd ever seen this many grocery bags for his kitchen in his entire life. Sadaharu was chewing through one of the bags on the couch to get to what looked like a mammoth pack of dog treats, his massive tail swishing back and forth a mile a minute in excitement. When Gintoki left the bedroom doorway, Sadaharu perked his head up and yipped, abandoning the bag and bounding over to him excitedly.

“Careful!” Gintoki held out both hands, trying to stop Sadaharu before the dog crashed into him. He was feeling a little stiff and sore, nothing too bad, but he still didn't want to aggravate any wounds if he didn't have to.

“Haha, you're awake!” Sakamoto yelled, peeking into the room from the kitchen. “Want me to make you a snack?”

“Shush! I'm awake but Zura's not!” Skipping around Sadaharu, whose attention was solely on licking Gintoki's hands, Gintoki moved closer to Sakamoto. “And _what_? What kind of intro line is that? _Want me to make you a snack?_ Who are you? My mother?”

“I'm the Rich Space Uncle.” Sakamoto said, right before a jar of peanut-butter smashed into the back of his head. He choked, going down to the ground with the jar.

“Nice throw, Mutsu!” Kagura said from the kitchen. “Does that make you my Cool Space Aunt?”

“I'd love to be your Cool Space Aunt.”

Stepping over Sakamoto's quivering form, the peanut butter unharmed beside him, Gintoki entered his kitchen to inspect what was going on. He was pleased to see that Mutsu must have taken over the shopping because it looked like fruits and vegetables were being put into his fridge, as opposed to beer and midnight snacks. “You guys really went shopping?” Gintoki asked, scratching at the inside of his leg with his other foot, trying to look casual and not tearfully touched. He inspected the other bags on the counter, mentally calculating how much Sakamoto must have spent and how long it would take for Kagura to eat it all.

“We did!” Kagura said, jumping up towards him. “We even got you so much strawberry milk it could be your birthday!”

 _Birthday._ Gintoki's eyes widened, a sudden realization hitting him that Kagura's birthday present was _still in his closet_. But Gintoki didn't get a chance to think further about that, because Sakamoto was suddenly laughing in the doorway, his voice drowning out everyone's thoughts.

“How are you feeling!” Sakamoto asked, waving at Gintoki like he wanted him to step into the living room for a second. “Haha! And Zura? Is he okay too? Let's go see!”

But they didn't go see Zura. Sakamoto stopped in in the living room, a hand patting Gintoki's shoulder to get him to wait up. “Listen, Kintoki.”

“It's Gintoki.”

“About that space vacation? You're coming with me.” Sakamoto said, smiling. He was turned towards Gintoki, his eyes sparkling with mirth, but his voice was deadly serious. Sakamoto wasn't asking, he was telling. And when Sakamoto told you to do something, you did it before it cost you your secret savings. “You and Kagura and Zura and that Vice Chief guy you like. Takasugi's taking care of the problem, so I'm going to take care of you guys.”

_He knows more than he's letting on._

“You don't need to do that.” Gintoki said, anxiety settling in at the thought of leaving everyone else behind when Nakamura could potentially still be on the loose. “I can't afford to close shop for too long-”

“Hahaha, who are you trying to fool? I've already talked to your old lady downstairs.” Sakamoto said, smacking Gintoki's shoulder and laughing. He laughed harder when Gintoki winced. “You're coming. It won't be this week, maybe next week? You're too on edge, you need to loosen up. We can drink until the sun goes down, which never happens because we'll be in space! Haha! And we can go see the Narwhals! The sun is always up in space and the moons are always out, it's always time to party!”

It sounded nice, but still. There was that lingering worry… The 'what if'… Takasugi and Gintoki weren't on good terms...

“Don't worry about Nakamura.” Sakamoto said his tone odd. He moved away to go grab some more grocery bags from the couch before Sadaharu could return to ripping them open. Gintoki wasn't sure how to interpret his next words, but they troubled him more than he would like to admit, left him standing awkwardly in his own living room.

“You'll get your closure. You just need some patience.”

  


–

  


“You gonna fuck me now?” Nakamura asked, smirking from where he lay on the ground. All things considered, the man looked pretty good. For now. He had made a home in the cold empty room on the lower floor of Takasugi's ship, Nakamura making himself comfortable immediately. He was still tied, hands behind his back, not that he could wander off on his own anyway. His knees were swelling past the bloody slits in his pants, never to be used again by the time Takasugi was done.

Takasugi stood in the doorway, his sword and Gintoki's bokuto slung through his belt. In one hand he had a bottle of the shitty vodka Sakamoto had sent him years ago as an unwanted birthday present. In his other hand was a rolling chair, a chair he had angrily dragged halfway across his ship to the amusement of his crew.

They were off Earth now, the ship rumbling pleasantly beneath them. The stars were passing them by, the moon. It was beautiful outside, and yet here Takasugi was, staring at leftover shit from Earth. Nakamura was far from home and he would never be going back. Takasugi wondered if the man truly knew he wasn't going to live.

Takasugi, remembering that he had things to do, considered Nakamura’s question. _You gonna fuck me?_

Takasugi didn't say anything as he rolled the chair into the room so he could close the door behind him. He wasn’t touching Nakamura with any of his skin, not even his bare hands if he could help it. The slimy bastard was rotten to the core, who knew what Takasugi would catch from him. _He better not have passed anything along to Zura or th_ _at_ _dumbass._

Fresh anger washed over Takasugi's chest.

“Performance issues?” Nakamura asked, his voice lilting in amusement. He looked at ease despite the situation. Takasugi wondered how long the false confidence would last. Or was it even false? The man had yet to shut up, thought he could blackmail the world to its knees. It had been grating on Takasugi's patience since they'd returned to the ship.

Takasugi sat in the chair, the alcohol placed down beside him. He threw one leg over a knee while he fished out his kiseru from inside his yukata, gaze never leaving Nakamura. In the corner, Nakamura struggled to sit more upright, looking rather calm. It had taken a lot of holding back, but Takasugi hadn’t cut anything off the man yet.

All in due time.

Lighting his pipe, Takasugi took a long inhale before finally speaking. “You’re going to tell me where the backup videos are.” He said. They were saved somewhere, downloaded and protected, but _where_ they were, Takasugi had no idea. He didn't want to leave anything behind this time, didn't want to possibly have to deal with this again ten years in the future.

“You should ask me politely, not demand.” Nakamura said, grinning. “Might make me more cooperative.”

Takasugi grinned. He didn't care about Nakamura's cooperation. This wasn't about the little details at all – touching his friends alone was worth murdering Nakamura – Takasugi just wanted to be able to destroy every last trace of the videos. And when he was personally done with Nakamura, he wanted to be able to look Katsura in the eye and confidently tell him _'he suffered enough'_ the next time he saw him.

“Have you looked on my computer yet?” Nakamura asked, his voice lilting annoyingly. “I know you took my work computer and my laptop out of my house. Did you see your friends yet on the videos? I don’t have any nice angles of Katsura, but I caught him on my security feed in my office. That video is saved to my backup computer and also to a USB. Did you take that computer too? Do you know how many computers you’re even looking for? Do you really think you’re going to be any more successful with me than your friends were?”

Takasugi’s eye twitched. This was the end of the line for Nakamura whether any of them liked it or not. Takasugi might not have seen Gintoki in person, but he had seen his videos and he had seen the state Katsura had been left in. It infuriated him. Gintoki, subdued by drugs just to be used against Katsura, used to manipulate and destroy. _It's always fucking Gintoki._

Takasugi's hand clenched over his kiseru. _Gintoki, always getting the shit end of the stick and smiling anyway._

“I will ask you one more time.” Furious now, Takasugi's heart rate picked up.

“And I will tell you one more time.” Nakamura said. “It's on a computer and a USB. But that depends on which videos you've deleted already. Do you think I don't have a backup for my backup? I've been planning this for so long, it would be silly to think I wouldn't take _extra_ precautions.”

Takasugi rolled his eye. He stood up then, placing his kiseru down on the chair, hand grabbing the neck of the bottle beside him. He strode across the room to Nakamura, standing over Nakamura's calves, pausing in front of him to unscrew the cap.

“If I don't make a call to one of my good friends by tonight, all of those videos will end up online. And then you'll have to delete _hundreds_ of backup sources.” Nakamura said, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face as he looked up. His glasses were long gone, smashed by Gintoki's bokuto back in the office. “Think the videos will ruin Katsura's reputation for good? Gintoki's? You’ll see in all of my security footage that I didn’t have to force Zura down once, how do you think that will go over with the public, knowing he willingly bends for other men? He even did it for me once even, put in the effort, but he was pretty terrible at it. Don't get your hopes up if you're swinging that way. Gintoki on the other hand-”

Cap-less, Takasugi tilted the bottle upside down, the clear liquid rushing out onto Nakamura’s broken knees. “Don’t want an infection.” Takasugi said, the first scream tearing out of Nakamura at the burn.

He poured it out until there was nothing left, Nakamura's moans and groans beneath him doing nothing to lift up his foul mood. Nakamura's head was slammed back into the wall, throat exposed, wet eyes squeezed shut. He was panting, hands straining behind him as the pain took over. Takasugi wondered if Katsura would be pleased.

 _Just cut him open._ Takasugi licked his bottom lip, lowering the bottle. “Did you think you were going to get away with it?”

“Of course.” Nakamura laughed. He broke out into low moans, his legs jerking in pain. “You know, you're not in the all-mighty position you think you are. You can benefit from this, you know. I know about you and Gintoki, about how much the two of you hate each other. I even have a pretty good guess as to why your _relationship_ turned out this way. It's because of the war, isn't it? Something happened, didn't it? And now Gintoki can't even face you, Zura won't even call for your help. You found out about me by dumb luck and decided to intervene. And what will they give you in return? Nothing. Do you know what I'll give you, to help me out? Just think about Gintoki, everything he did wrong to you. Just think about him moaning underneath _you_. I can guarantee you that.”

 _He did his homework._ Takasugi slashed him with the bokuto, wood splitting across the front Nakamura's calves, tearing another scream from the man. Blood burst from the fresh wound, Takasugi's standard hits harder than any of the others. Gintoki? Moaning under him? In anger, Takasugi hit him again just because he could. He would never force Gintoki down like that due to his own disgust with the notion, but he couldn't deny the image painted a pretty picture in his head.

He gave Nakamura a second to breathe, a second to collect himself before he kicked out his foot, setting it ever so gently against one of Nakamura's knees. He didn't press against it yet.

Nakamura laughed through a whimper, his eyes glued to Takasugi's expression. “Looks like I struck a nerve. You're thinking about it, aren't you? What do you owe them? Nothing. They didn't reach out to you for help, so why are you helping them? Maybe you should take this opportunity to change alliances. You have no reason to be loyal to them.”

Did he not get it? _He_ _might have done his homework but he f_ _orgot about critical thinking._ _Did he really just try to swindle me to his side?_ Takasugi stepped down, the heel of his foot rubbing into the bone until Nakamura looked like he was about to pass out. “I have every reason to be loyal to them.”

“What do you think torturing me is going to earn you?” Nakamura asked. He was laughing, borderline manic. “You swoop in and save the day. But now what? Gintoki and Zura don't get closure and all you get is dirty hands.

“And?” Takasugi asked. He pressed the bokuto into Nakamura's face, poking at him.

“ _And_ you should reconsider your options before you find yourself just as bad off as _Katsura_.” Nakamura laughed. “It's a pretty boring story, buddy, the same plot is being reused over and over again.” His tone changed then, anger that had the hairs on Takasugi's arms rising. Whatever Nakamura was daydreaming about, Zura was suffering. “I used Gintoki against Zura to make him do what I want. What makes you think I won't use both of them against you, for the same reason?”

Takasugi moved, but the bokuto didn't strike Nakamura again, because Nakamura started to hysterically laugh again. “What are you going to do? Hit me with that? Are you going to keep this up all day? All week? All month? For what? If you kill me, Zura loses. If you keep me, you lose and Gintoki wins. Is that what you want? For Gintoki to win? Because I wasn't joking when I said he's been mistreating Katsura. Gintoki psychically did something to upset him. You know that, right?”

 _He's lying._ Takasugi smacked Nakamura's legs apart with the bokuto, stepping up between them. Nakamura shifted his back against the wall, trying to create space. “You know what good little Gin-san did to Zura? With that bokuto you're holding right there? Do you want to know where he put it?”

Takasugi immediately slid the bokuto back into his belt, his hands shaking. He unsheathed his sword, cold steel glinting in the light. He held the sword up, level with Nakamura's left eye. “I think I need to send a note back to Earth.” He said, the blade flicking from vertical to horizontal in the blink of an eye.

Nakamura glanced to it warily. “And what are you going to send them? A crime scene?”

“Yeah.” Takasugi said.

 

–

 

“Gin-chan, the mail came!” Kagura exclaimed bounding into the house. She had a stack of mail and a very large brown package slung under her arm that was almost as tall as her. “There's something for you! Think it's your broom so you can finally enroll in Hogwars?”

“It's not Hogwars, it's Hog-” Gintoki sighed, preemptively giving up. He sat up tiredly on his couch. Katsura had silently left that morning after claiming he felt better, and Gintoki hadn't stopped him. He should have, though. It was gnawing at him, every moment reminding him that Katsura hadn't been quite right, that Katsura hadn't kept anything down during his stay. That Gintoki's moping hadn't been helping, had been possibly pulling Katsura emotionally down when he needed to be lifted up. They were sinking, both of them. But between the two of them, Katsura had a better chance of recovering. And maybe he needed to do it away from Gintoki.

More guilt gnawed at Gintoki's insides.

He glanced to the package Kagura was setting down, an eyebrow quirking. _What the hell is that?_ Glancing to his name on the brown paper, almost refused to open it when he recognized the writing.

“What is it?”

“A bomb, probably.” Gintoki said. _A big giant 'fuck you' note, maybe. Who knows with that guy._ He ripped the paper off anyway, giving way to a fancy box, _Lake Toya_ written across it with a very alluring photo of the newest bokuto edition on the cover. _Oh?_ A note was taped to the outside, Takasugi's shitty writing leaving Gintoki a brief, straight to the point message.

_You don't want the old one back._

Gintoki supposed he didn't. He had no idea what Nakamura did with his old sword, and if Takasugi had come across it, Gintoki didn't want to know what _that guy_ did with it either.

Popping the box open, he actually laughed at what he saw inside. It was his old bokuto, the handle worn just right, the blade lovingly used and clean of blood. It smelled clean even, like someone had taken to time to clear the blood and bodily fluids from between the splinters. Another note was taped to the wooden handle. _But it sucks to be you._

Gintoki laughed, and it was the first genuine laugh he'd had in days.

“What is it?” Kagura asked, leaning over the box to see. “Who's it from?”

“What an asshole.” Gintoki said, pushing the lid of the box aside and pulling his sword out from the foam molding. _Did he buy a new one just to give me the box? What a dick._ _Wait! What did he do with the new bokuto?_ Content, Gintoki placed the wood sword on his coffee table, staring at it affectionately. “It's my sword. Ta-da!”

“Whoah!” Kagura said, staring at it. “It's like it's your birthday!”

 _Oh shit!_ He forgot! Again!

“Oh! Wait there!” Gintoki said, before getting up and rushing into his bedroom, fishing through his closet. He found the little box, no bigger than his palm, wrapped up in fancy red paper with little sushi rolls all over it. Tucking it under his arm, Gintoki returned to the living room. Kagura was staring at him curiously, Sadaharu gently taking the lid to Gintoki's box and trotting away with it.

“Speaking of birthdays...” Bashfully, he set the little present down on the coffee table in front of her. “I know I'm weeks late, but...”

“For me?” Kagura perked right up, jumping halfway across the table to get the gift. She picked it up, glancing up to Gintoki with massive eyes, holding it delicately in her hands. “Really? You actually bought me a gift?”

Flopping down onto his couch, Gintoki huffed. “Of course I got you a gift! Who do you think I am? I've had it since...” _I bought it_ _three_ _week_ _s_ _before your birthday._ “Just open it.”

Tearing through the paper, Kagura paused, eyes wide at the little box underneath. It was a ring box. Carefully, she pulled the remaining wrapping paper off, staring at it in wonder. She popped it open, glancing inside, the silence settling heavily. “Is that…?”

“If it's stupid...” Gintoki said nervously, but he laughed after, carrying on. “Happy belated fifteenth birthday.”

Kagura continued to stare, her expression uncomfortably void. She pulled the little silver ring out from the box, staring at the stones. In the middle was her birthstone, the outer two, her parents. It was a gift idea Gintoki had accidentally stumbled upon after talking to an old lady who had misplaced her favorite garden gnome in her daughter's ex's creepy basement.

That was a long story.

Carefully, Kagura glanced up. Her voice was plain. “Shouldn't Pappy have given me this?”

“Well, he's a slacker still in space.” Gintoki laughed nervously. “He told me your mother's birthday.” Her father had been 'not crying', had spent hours of reminiscing when Gintoki had asked. Gintoki had listened silently to the whole one-sided conversation with his heart.

“Where's your stone?” Kagura asked, inspecting the ring. She glanced up then, took in the naked shock on Gintoki's face, and lunged across the table to hug him. “Thanks Gin-chan! I love it!”

One of the most pleasant feelings Gintoki's ever had washed over him, leaving him warm inside as he hugged her back. He didn't answer her, didn't tell her he'd figured it'd be inappropriate because he wasn't really her father, that he was just the lazy ass she was living with on Earth. But he hugged her back and considered that next time, he'd make sure she knew he wanted her here just as much as she did.

Sitting up, Kagura almost smashed her face off his. “Now when I punch people I'll leave a distinct imprint!”

Gintoki laughed. “That's the first thing you decide to say? And what happens when you get blood caked in it? You're going to have to save up and buy yourself jewelry cleaner now!”

“How am I supposed to save up if you never pay me?” Kagura asked, sliding the ring onto her right ring finger.

“Hey hey, don't call me out like that!” Gintoki said, fingers pinching her cheek. “You're going to have to work for it like we work for everything else!”

“Like conning the old lady downstairs into giving it to me?” Kagura asked, squeezing Gintoki's cheeks back. They wrestled, hands pinching each other, Kagura still talking a mile a minute. “Zura told me yesterday that if I really want someone to buy me something, I need to swindle them with a sappy story! He was giving me pointers! You gotta start with a hook to get the listener to pay attention, and then you need to hit them in the gut with either feelings or a question, aru. A 'where is this story going' or a 'that is so relatable' kind of gut-hit! And then you have to build up your protagonists while including yourself into the plot as a side character to make it all the more believable!”

“He's a con!” Gintoki said, relenting when Kagura pinched way too hard. He flopped back onto the couch laughing, Kagura going down with him, arms thrown over his head in dramatic surrender. “Nothing but a con! He got something from you by telling you that, didn't he! What did he ask for?”

“He asked for me not to tell you he was crying in your bathroom after puking his guts out.” Kagura said. She was lying on him, patting his cheek to soothe the sting from her hit. “He was sick. Said it was character development and when I asked what happened he started telling me a story about a girl who got what she wanted when she took home a caterpillar, but in the end, it wasn't what she wanted at all. And then he started telling me how to tell stories.”

“Oh?” Gintoki asked. He sounded way too curious for his own good. “When was this?”

“Yesterday.” Kagura said. She jumped off him, stretching out her arm out to admire the ring. Even Sadaharu came over to check it out, leaving behind a shredded _Lake Toya_ box on the floor.

Kagura mumbled her next sentence, her back to him. “Are you guys okay?”

“Of course.” Gintoki said, sitting up. “We're fine.”

When Kagura turned around, her eyes were misty again. “Are you sure? Because you've been sad since we came back home and Zura-chan is sick-”

Oh shit. “No, we're okay, I'm not sad.” Gintoki said. He was standing now, moving towards her, trying to pull her back from the tears she was trying so hard not to shed. He hugged her again, gentle this time. “We'll be fine. This isn't one of those life-changing plot arcs.” He lied. The guilt throbbed in his chest. He tightened his hug. The most important part of this whole story was that she was safe.

“You better be.” Kagura said. “Because Mutsu said we're going on vacation and if you're not at your best you might get eaten by a Narwhal.”

“I am not going to be eaten by a Narwhal.”

“They can sense your sadness!” Kagura said, pushing Gintoki away. “I'm serious! They could sense Pachi's sadness over Tsuu-chan not being single anymore from a mile away! I told him it's just a celebrity scandal and that she's only fake dating an imaginary anime guy to get the tabloids after her, but he didn't believe me!”

“ _What?_ ”

“Anyway I gotta go show Soyo my new ring before we go on vacation!” Kagura exclaimed, running away towards the door, calling Sadaharu to come with her. In the doorway, she paused to spin around and wave at him. “Thanks again Gin-chan!”

“Be- be careful!” Gintoki called, his voice echoing through the house as Kagura took off into the street. He sighed, a hand on his hip, watching the door she had disappeared through. Part of him was on edge, worried that in a few hours it would be brought to his attention that Nakamura had taken her, had taken Zura, had taken Hijikata. Was trying to blackmail Takasugi, of all damn people.

 _He would never succeed._ But the fear was still there. The uncertainty was still there while the closure was _not_. Gintoki needed to settle this with his own hands, but that was impossible now. _It had been impossible before._

Standing like an idiot in his own living room because he was internally frustrated, his thoughts shifted to Hijikata. Before, Hijikata had been his comfort thoughts. A friend untainted by the war with Sakamoto's confidence and Zura's (seemingly rare) levelheadedness. With Takasugi's snappy attitude before it became too much.

Hijikata was a safe friend to Gintoki, someone he could rely on. Someone he could talk to. Someone he could trust. Someone he cared for perhaps a little too deeply. _He rejected me._

Embarrassment heated his cheeks, the other day cutting through him like a knife. Sitting back down on the couch, Gintoki turned the TV on and placed a hand over his face, forcing those thoughts from his mind. _Maybe I need a nap._

He wondered how long it would take before the rejection ate him alive.


	22. DeJaVu Just Means You're Done A Plot Arc And You've Come Full Circle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update 2/2!

It had been three days. Three full days of patrol and investigating non-existent bombs, and Hijikata hadn't seen a flash of long hair or a shock of white. He wasn't surprised but he was still worried. He was stressed over Nakamura and everything that man had done still because it didn't feel _over._ Every time he saw Yamazaki approaching him in the hall, Hijikata's heart would stop. _There's been a bomb,_ would pass through his head, but then Yamazaki would report nothing and continue on his way. Every time Sougo called to him too sharply, the thought that _Gintoki's been found, something's not right_ , would roil his stomach in anticipation, but the words never came.

It had been a long three days.

Gintoki was home 'resting', Katsura was healing physically from Nakamura's last attack. Yesterday, when Hijikata had swung by, Kagura had kicked him out because her 'Earth Dad' and 'Crime Mum' had been napping again. The time before that and Gintoki had practically given him the cold shoulder before making an excuse for Hijikata to leave. They had been grumbling with each other, but that had been that.

Sakamoto was… gone? Maybe? Hijikata hadn't seen the man, but he did get an influx of text messages (he hadn't even given the weirdo his number!) that had almost resulted in a broken phone. Something about a 'package' and 'when the time is right' and 'hahahahaha' and a vacation date that sounded a little suspicious. Hijikata hadn't requested the time off yet, hadn't come up with a believable excuse for it.

Takasugi was gone with the wind, Nakamura MIA. The Chop and Lop closed until further notice. All in all, Hijikata was content.

Except, that was obviously a lie.

Sitting outside the barracks, smoking yet another cigarette, Hijikata's foot was bouncing in irritation. It was warmer today, but the pretty weather lady said it would be hell tomorrow. Beside him, Sougo was casually reading the newspaper for the first time in his life, impassively glancing over the comics like he'd rather be doing anything else. Why he was reading it, Hijikata didn't know. Or care. The fact of the matter was that Sougo had been keeping close, and Hijikata wasn't sure why. It was almost like Sougo was worried about him.

“Keep smoking like that, Hijikata. You'll die.” Sougo said, breaking the peaceful silence of the afternoon.

Hijikata grunted in response, inhaling deep. Something had been rubbing him the wrong way lately, and it wasn't the fact that the Joui were non-existence. It was the fact that Nakamura was gone – Hijikata had seen Takasugi go in there, he knew what the man was capable of – and yet he didn't feel satisfied. He didn't feel like Gintoki and Katsura were safe.

But who was he to protect them? He was Gintoki's friend and Katsura's enemy. Takasugi was one of their own. If anyone was capable of cleaning up Nakamura, it was that guy. So then why was Hijikata so restless?

He knew why he couldn't sit still. But there was nothing he could do about it. There was nothing to prove Nakamura was gone. Sakamoto hadn't even come through yet, Hijikata's incriminating evidence nowhere to be found. How did Gintoki feel about that, Hijikata wondered. Katsura. They didn't even have closure, did they? Nakamura was just _gone._

Ah. And don't even get him started on Gintoki and what had almost happened on the stairs. He hadn't meant to reject him like that, he had meant… he _meant…_ how the hell was Hijikata supposed to explain that? He didn't want Gintoki acting impulsively from being hurt. He didn't want to take advantage of Gintoki's state, didn't want to offer Gintoki comfort past what the man actually needed. He didn't want to fuck up their relationship because Gintoki was still trying to rid himself of Nakamura and everything he did to him. Gintoki was confused, might just be trying to replace Nakamura's touches with anything at all, _anyone_.

Hijikata just wanted Gintoki to be okay. And when he was okay, Hijikata would never put his hand up to stop him again if Gintoki wholeheartedly tried to kiss him.

God. Did he make a mistake? And that cold shoulder, the other day!

“Hijikata!”

God, was that Yamazaki now? He was trying to have a really long inner monologue!

“A package came for you in the mail.” Yamazaki said, puffing to a stop. He sat down beside the Vice-Chief, handing over a package wrapped in brown paper. Hijikata eyed it suspiciously, before remembering that he had been expecting this. It wasn't Nakamura, escaped from Takasugi's clutches and sending threats.

Hopefully.

 _Good. Sakamoto's coming through at least._ Hijikata wasn't sure how Sakamoto had known the time was right. Maybe he was just mailing it from space? Making sure it wasn't traceable? Hijikata didn't really care about _those_ details, as long as Nakamura was incriminated.

“Thanks.” Hijikata said, tapping out his cigarette before accepting the package. Sougo glanced over to it with mild interest before turning back to his newspaper.

Hijikata briefly glanced to his name on the front before pulling the brown paper off. There was a little bit of cardboard on the duct-tape box. The ridiculous tape job required Hijikata to unsheathe his sword. The box was covered in it, wrapped tightly and excessively secure.

Sougo snorted, glancing to the package. “If I were you, I would check for bombs.”

“It's not from the Joui.” Hijikata said, katana slicing through the top of the box in one strike, neatly popping the top layer off. _Wait. It technically_ is _from the Joui…_ Suspicious now, Hijikata peered into the box, eyebrows creasing. _Is this Sakamoto's evidence?_

Sticking his hand in, Hijikata pulled out a freezer-sized Zipmock by the corner, double bagged, of course, his stomach churning as the contents of the plastic came into view. He paused, immediately realizing that this package hadn't been from Sakamoto. This was evidence. But this was something else entirely.

This was from Takasugi.

“Is that an eye?” Sougo asked, his voice taking on a mystified tone as he glanced to the bag Hijikata was still holding up in the air. He was grinning, pupils blown. “It's an eye!”

“Y-yeah.” Hijikata said, grimacing. A single plucked eyeball rolled into a bloody corner of the baggy, the iris black, the pupil clouded over. There was a pair of glasses in the bag too, the lenses smeared with blood. Hijikata already knew they would come back as Nakamura's. On the other side of the Zipmock, a note was tapped aggressively to the bag, _thanks_ written across it in heavy penmanship.

Hijikata almost gagged, a personal flash of horror crossing his mind of fire and a knife in his own hands. He gagged again, an odd feeling settling in his chest. He'd been acknowledged by Takasugi, been _thanked._ He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

“We...” He turned to Yamazaki, handing the bag over slowly like if he moved too fast it would explode. If he moved too fast, he might collapse. “Send that to evidence.”

“Uh. Yeah.” Yamazaki agreed, pinching the baggy between forefinger and thumb. He held the bag up, blatantly not looking at. “Can I take the box too?”

“Yeah sure.” Hijikata said, handing the box over so Yamazaki didn't parade a plucked eyeball across the barracks.

He watched Yamazaki go, stomach flipping. _It had to be an eye, didn't it?_ He waited until the fuzzy feeling in his head died down, waited until it felt like he could stand without toppling over. _Send a damn finger, next time!_ Could he get away with sending Takasugi an angry message? Would he live? Hijikata had seen more than enough severed body parts in his life, but the eyes were the only ones that ever made him puke. Eyes were the only thing he wasn't okay with.

Standing up slowly, Hijikata fished out another cigarette and his lighter. His stomach was churning unpleasantly, but he was satisfied to think that Nakamura wasn't getting out of this whole. Rotting in jail would have been the appropriate response, but Nakamura had decided he was Joui, and the Joui cleaned up after themselves.

“Where are you going?” Sougo asked, glancing up from his newspaper. He closed it, folding it in half and standing up too like he was coming along.

“Out.” Hijikata said, moving on autopilot. He wanted to go see Gintoki, he wanted to go so bad. But Gintoki needed space right now, to work some things out for himself. Hijikata would get his chance to talk to him soon, anyway. He had just been shipped a plucked eyeball from a terrorist in space and he was sure this wouldn't be the last one. Gintoki would probably like to know about the eye, was probably still pacing around on guard, watching out for Nakamura's return.

Oddly enough, Hijikata felt like this was case-closed.

Hijikata was taking that damn vacation and this, this _eye_ was going to be his excuse. He'd go with Gintoki and his pack of weird friends and he would close the distance Gintoki was putting between them now. The Joui cleaned up after themselves, and if Sakamoto was forcing Gintoki on a vacation, then Hijikata didn't doubt the man needed it.

When Gintoki came undone, when Gintoki needed to be put back together, Hijikata was going to be there for him.

Sougo went with him for his impromptu walk, his attitude no different than usual. Hijikata, for once, didn't mind his company.

 

–

 

It was fair to say that it had been one of _those_ weeks. Two weeks to be exact.

Gintoki giggled as he stumbled down the dark street, hand outstretched to catch the wall as he staggered by. He was drunk – shocker – ambling his way down to the last place he liked to stop by on dark nights like these.

Familiar, right?

As he pushed aside the noren, he giggled some more when the owner paused what he was doing to stare. He looked shocked for a moment, completely caught off guard until he rolled his eyes, a small smile gracing his face. Heavily, Gintoki dropped onto the empty bench, attention on the old man.

“Long time no see.” The old man said, a fond smile on his lips. He leaned forward. “Thought you might have gotten yourself sober.”

Gintoki started to laugh at the thought, scooting forward on the bench. “I'm here for my sake!” He was already pulling out his change, the familiarity of the situation warming his stomach pleasantly. He pulled out lint and coins, slapping it down on the counter and pushing it all forward without even counting it. He felt nice. Pleasantly warm. Hilarious, even.

“Just one cup.” The man sighed, pulling out a cup and filling it up. His eyes flickered up to Gintoki, both amused and disappointed. “I only ever give you one. Just because you didn't show up last week doesn't mean you're getting an extra one.”

“Yeah, yeah! You're being stingy!” Gintoki giggled, accepting his drink and leaning over it. He glanced into the liquid, eyes heavy and half-lidded, his reflection muddled and no doubt looking just as terrible as he had felt earlier. Wasn't this the part where he had an internal monologue about his traumas? Went into some deep thought? Yeah?

No.

As usual, Gintoki tried to sip it, but it ended up gone in the blink of an eye. He didn't know what he was doing with his life at that moment, he didn't know why he felt like he was on an emotional roller coaster the past few days, but he did know that the alcohol helped. A lot.

Slamming the cup down just because he could, Gintoki burst into giggles. _This is great! I need more!_ The fact that this night heavily mirrored the first night he had been taken only cracked him up more for some reason. Maybe this was the closure Sakamoto had been talking about! Maybe this was how the story came full circle! Hilarious!

“Hey, hey, I think you shorted me!” Gintoki said, tapping the cup. He glanced up, spitting out his usual lines, hoping that one of these days the old man would relent. He could use more. Could always use more. Tonight, he had several itches he wanted to take care of, but the more alcohol he got in his system, the easier it would be to ignore that _other_ itch.

“No more.” The old man said, laughing like they had just shared a joke. “I tell you every time. You only get one.”

“What is this? I haven't seen you in what? Two weeks? How have you gotten so much more stingy since then?” Gintoki asked. “Is this what happens when you get old? You somehow get even more stingy?”  
  
Amidst the owner's reply, another man sat down beside Gintoki, dark features immediately catching his attention.

“Just a beer, please.”

Gintoki glanced over quickly, not hearing what the owner said in return. The dark hair had caught Gintoki's eyes right away, but the man beside Gintoki wasn't Nakamura. Gintoki's mouth closed, his drunk high sobering for a quick second, the fear passing.

_Fear._

This stranger was taller, more muscular, but he had the same style of dark hair and the same kind of pretty face Nakamura had, the one that made Gintoki instantly think of Hijikata and Katsura. He didn't have the glinting glasses of an evil anime villain, and his face wasn't as pleasant as Nakamura's had been. This looked like a guy with real-life problems just like Gintoki. He looked like the kind of sap about to break out into a dramatic story over a bad breakup.

Gintoki's chest ached.

When the other man received his drink, he glanced Gintoki's way, dark eyes passing over Gintoki's face and then briefly flickering down to the low zipper and exposed chest. The shop owner turned away then to conveniently clean a cup, and Gintoki chastised himself for staring. The stranger had obviously noticed and Gintoki couldn't read the expression on his face. Was he about to start a fight? Or was the guy about to tell him his life story?

“Problem?” The voice was tired, irate. It sounded like Gintoki's own lately.

“The opposite.” Gintoki said, turning back to his drink. He chuckled, picking up the cup before glancing down into the empty bottom of it. _Guess I gotta go._ He sighed, standing up slowly so his drunken balance wouldn't get too thrown off. “Thanks old man. I'll see you next time!”

“Next week, you mean?” The old man asked, sighing.

“Would you lend an ear?” The stranger asked, dark eyes flashing Gintoki's way.

Gintoki paused, smile frozen on his face. _Would you lend an ear?_ He glanced over that face once more and made the conscious (and oh-so trusting) decision to sit back down. If this man turned into Nakamura 2.0, at least Gintoki would be able to say that he had walked into the situation this time _knowing_ he was playing a risky game. And maybe that was the point.

Maybe this was a new problem, maybe this was just Gintoki's way of flying off the deep end to try and get his emotions contained. If he wanted to go out and drink then he would go out and drink. Men like Nakamura couldn't prey on him, couldn't take advantage of him if he _willingly_ got into bed with them first.

In the back of Gintoki's mind, he knew this wasn't how it should work, wasn't what he should be doing. He could come up with hundreds of excuses, but in the end, they were just excuses and mistakes he would eventually have to face.

Gintoki lent an ear. It was a bad breakup – typical – and maybe by the time the man was done his story, Gintoki had somehow gotten a beer out of him. Had slid closer on the bench. Had placed his own hand on the man's thigh and had caught those dark eyes with his own sensual gaze.

Before he went home with the man for a night of consensual fun that would leave Gintoki walking funny the next day, Gintoki thought of Hijikata. He thought of Zura, and he thought of Nakamura. He thought of what he was doing and why, and then he shut it all out.

He slept with the man anyway. To prove to himself he had control, to prove to himself he wasn't weak, to get over the rejection, Gintoki wasn't sure. It was a combination of everything, just like most of Gintoki's inner problems.

But the next morning, when he stumbled back home, he immediately packed for that stupid vacation. It looked like he needed it more than he thought, and maybe he wanted it more than he would ever admit.

 

–

 

At Nakamura's lavish desk, Katsura set down the note Takasugi had sent him. Instantly the paper became wet, changing color while the words themselves became a blob of unreadable ink.

_He's being delicately taken care of._

It was absolute madness. Standing at Nakamura's desk, in the darkness of his office, Katsura could only feel shame. There was a man being tortured in space on Katsura's and Gintoki's behalf, because Katsura hadn't been able to deal with the problem when it was first sprung up. If Takasugi's definition of 'delicate' was still the same, then Nakamura was losing an eye and maybe having several years beat out of him, all before he ended up being sent for a live space-burial.

 _What happened to being a tactician? How'd you lose control when you needed it the most?_ It never should have gotten this far. Katsura should have taken action the first time Nakamura said, _Katsura, I am going to lead your Joui rebellion._

Impassively, Katsura turned away, turning his back to the chair that haunted his recent dreams, walking out of the office like it was somehow meaningful. It wasn't. Katsura didn't feel anything walking out of the office, his shoes slapping on the wet carpet, walking down that long hall. It wasn't refreshing, empowering. He felt more and more disgusting the closer he got to the door like the longer he stayed the more Nakamura took from him.

From the darkness of the alley, Katsura emerged from the back door of the Chop and Lop. He left the door wide open as he moved slow and calculated into the alley. His thoughts were negative, eyes impassive on the ground, making sure he didn't trip or anything. He felt detached from the world around him, wet shoes carrying him simply to his next goal.

Running on next to nothing, he'd been giving the Joui new things to focus on, searching relentlessly for new things to keep himself busy. Sakamoto had been insistent on going into space for a while, had promised Katsura cats and possibly puppies. Gintoki was going because Kagura had been invited, and as much as Katsura hated to admit it, he felt obligated to go and support Gintoki. This had been his mess, his business, and it had all gone wrong because he'd been compromised.

The least he could do was make sure Gintoki recovered.

 _Stop thinking. Start doing._ He'd been meaning to do this for a while now, but only now did he feel safe getting away with it. Nakamura was harmless in space, and his connections were cut by Sakamoto.

Katsura liked to keep his promises, even if Nakamura wasn't here to see it.

At the sidewalk, Katsura paused in the mouth of the alley, his eyes locked on the rainbow puddle that trailed out the back door of the Chop and Lop. Tiredly, he turned around to face the building of his recent nightmares, still lost in thought.

He was dead tired. He hadn't been able to sleep at Gintoki's the other night, had laid awake for the majority of it staring at the wall, eyes unblinking. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Gintoki. Gintoki on that computer monitor, being abused out of Katsura's reach. Gintoki's name leaving Nakamura's mouth, a threat that didn't deserve to be made. He saw Gintoki's bandages, the bruises, his look of betrayal the night he had finally confronted him. Katsura felt so guilty it made him sick. He'd considered if Gintoki had felt like this after Shouyou, but Katsura had shoved that thought away. _How dare I even make the comparison._

Focusing back on the Chop and Lop, Katsura glanced over that back door that had made his hands shake on multiple occasions. This building had taken so much from him, from _them_ , that Katsura regretted not doing this much earlier. Better off late than never, he supposed.

From his pocket, he pulled out the mayonnaise lighter he'd swiped from Hijikata only days prior. With one last glance to the Chop and Lop, Katsura knelt down and impassively flicked the flame.

The puddle ignited, bright fire suddenly roaring to life in the pool of gasoline. The flames flew, following the trail all the way to the open back door of the Chop and Lop, the fire darting inside where they roared to life, igniting like a bomb, lighting up the alley like a forsaken sun. Katsura wasn't familiar with the antics of fire. The fires after his bombs weren't quite the same, but he was fascinated none the less, eyes wide as the flames took over in a matter of seconds, the rumble coming from inside the Chop and Lop raising the hairs on his arms. For a second, he felt pleased with himself. Like he had fought back and finally won.

 _I should have done this sooner._ Content with his work, Katsura melted into the shadows. The shop would burn down, there was no saving it. Katsura had made sure, just like Nakamura made sure he was strangling Katsura every move he'd made.

But the further away he got, the heavier his steps became. By the time he got back home, his bedroom door closed behind him, he was thinking about Gintoki. How Gintoki had trusted him so much despite the evidence Nakamura had stacked against him. About Hijikata, coming through to help him when he shouldn't have even bothered.

Like a splash of fresh water, Katsura suddenly lifted his head.

He didn't linger by his door for long. He actually left his bedroom, went back into the living room where Elizabeth was watching a soap re-run. Sitting down beside her, Katsura reached for the tea, not surprised that Elizabeth had prepared him a cup just in case. Drowning in his guilt wasn't healthy. It wasn't the way he wanted to deal with this because it wouldn't help him help Gintoki.

[Are you okay?] Elizabeth asked, turning his way. She was always wide-eyed and worried lately, always seemed to be watching him extra close.

Pouring himself a cup, Katsura thought of Sakamoto's offered (forced) space trip. He wondered how much Sakamoto knew about their mental states.

“I'll be okay.” Katsura said, lifting the cup. He even offered Elizabeth a smile.

In the back of his mind he knew that together, he and Gintoki would eventually be more than just alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! Are you disappointed? Are you screaming! Well good news, you were supposed to feel a little disappointed because I'm not done yet.
> 
> This. Has become a series. (Are you surprised?) I've decided to stick all of the recovery and fluff and comfort I am capable of squeezing out into a separate fic. (To escape the dreary tone this fic has left us all with because honestly, it's dreary and I can't shake it.) I tried to wrap it up quick and neat before it became too much longer and perhaps it was too quick but. Well.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! This long wild ride that should have ended 7-10 chapters ago! Nakamura is gone! Away!
> 
> Feel free to yell at me on [Tumblr](https://merrrrp.tumblr.com/) ! If not, keep an eye out for new updates. And once again, thanks for all the comments and kudos!!! Also, the spelling/grammatical errors should be mostly cleaned up by now! Whoo!


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